Pitching to the Gods
by symbiotic
Summary: Hera challenges Zeus to find someone more devoted to him then her and he accepts, taking up life on earth as a Major League Baseball pitcher. With his athletic career coming to an end, Hermes convinces Hera to give Zeus a chance to regain his godhood and her favor. With a mortal journalist named Jason in tow, Hera judges Zeus in his final season. Rated M for sex scenes.
1. Forsaken

Chapter 1-Forsaken

* * *

_Somewhere in Thessaly, Greece  
_

Dorothea Liapakis was not a princess. She was not the daughter of a wealthy father who inherited a large sum of money. She was not someone who had carved out a strong existence for herself. Indeed, Dorothea Liapakis was nothing particularly special at all. She was but a young woman, working on her family's long running olive farm. Like the generations that came before her, Dorothea toiled away at the earth and picked at the olive trees, making sure to capture all of the delectable green olives off the trees before the harvest ended. After that, she would join her four brothers and three sisters, along with their old but still capable parents, and crush the olives into olive oil to sell at market. Some of the olives, along with the oil they made, she kept for herself. And each year, she repeated the cycle once more with the same youthful exuberance that she had done it when she first started harvesting the olives at the age of six.

This meager existence was certainly not one that would attract Dorothea much attention. She had attended a small rural school in her youth, but she far enjoyed spending time in the fields of olive trees then she did studying books. She was not the smartest woman, not the most devout in her faith, but she was wise in the ways of survival and the agrarian arts, listening intently to every instruction her father gave her toward the harvesting of each olive crop; of how their secret irrigation technique kept their trees producing more olives then any other family owned farm in Thessaly, of how the soil was always carefully rotated every three years to ensure that it stayed bountiful. She could not match her father in the zeal of his prayers to the lord, but Dorothea always obeyed her father's will, and remained devoted to her earthly one as he was devoted to both his heavenly father and his earthen family.

But what Dorothea did have, as the third child of her parents George and Marilena, was immense beauty. From the very day she was born, those in the Liapakis family and friends of the family had always remarked that she had an almost divine quality to her beauty. As she grew and matured into a young woman, Dorothea became even more beautiful, so beautiful that many a man with a camera and a contract was turned down by her simple ways. Dorothea had no desire to merely be some human sculpture, a sex symbol that men could photograph to show what beauty could be like. All she wished was to live a simple life and continue her father's tradition of producing the finest olives in Thessaly. If she was going to be with a man, Dorothea thought, it would have to be someone who would value her for more then just her beauty, but would be an equal to her and desire to work with her hand in hand.

Such a man came along one day when Dorothea traveled with her father to Larissa, the capital city of the state of Thessaly. At the market one day, Dorothea was sitting patiently while her father haggled prices with potential buyers at the market, wasting away in boredom when he came to her. He was a tall man, with a build almost all others would envy, looking like a hero from the stories of old that Dorothea had heard her father tell to her brothers. He asked to try some of the olives, with Dorothea offered, and he promptly bought two bottles of their oil. At first, he did not introduce himself, but he later revealed his name to be Theokritos, or Theo for short. Soon after that first encounter, Dorothea received a letter from Theo, proclaiming her family's olives to be the best he had had in a long time. Furthermore, he looked forward to buying more olives during their next trip to market, and wished them further success with their coming harvests. Each time thereafter that Dorothea traveled to Thessaly with her father, Theo would be there, and he would always buy many bottles of olive oil and many of their finest green olives. And each time he was there, he managed to further win over George as an ideal suitor for his daughter, and would get the older man to turn his gaze away from Dorothea and him as they would wander about the streets of Larissa.

Each time they walked together he spoke in the sweetest and most romantic of overtures. He listed carefully as she spoke of her love of nature; of her personal flower gardens that she tended on their farm and her love of horses and other animals, and of how she would help her father count the olives and process the oil in a manner that fewer and fewer Greek olive farms continued to do. And she in turn would listen of his knowledge of the world; his inside knowledge of the political world and history, particularly regarding the ancient times in Greece. As their visits grew longer and more frequent, Theo would make bolder and bolder promises to Dorothea, claiming that she would never find a man like him in the world, and that he would swear by his life to protect her should anything happen. Dorothea was flattered by his sincerity, but did not take him seriously. She did not believe there was any way Theo could be the man he claimed to be, and that she was probably another one of many women that he consorted with. Surely, she believed, a man of his figure and knowledge could not possibly want a simple farm girl like her. Even when he returned with jewels and clothing the likes of which she had never believed he could possess and was given these items as gifts, Dorothea turned Theo down.

It was not until one night, when Dorothea and her father went home, that Theo was able to win her over. That night, as they made their way back in their horse drawn wagon from Larissa to their farm, they were attacked by a group of five highwaymen. The men demanded that all the money they had collected that day was to be handed over. George initially refused, but the highwaymen had other plans. They took Dorothea hostage, holding her at gun point until George relented and went to reach for his money. But that never occurred, for Theo appeared on the highway. And when he appeared, the starry night sky disappeared, swallowed whole by dark clouds which rumbled and cracked like no storm Dorothea or her father had ever seen.

"You'll let her go," Theo demanded. "Her father and her have no quarrel with you miserable lot." The highwaymen stood firm, taunting Theo by kissing Dorothea's neck and grabbing her breast. Dorothea squirmed, struggling to let any form of vocalization out of her mouth as the highwayman held her mouth shut and strangled her throat with his fist.

The storm clouds grew darker, and from their folds lightning began to flash. The horses neighed and whined, kicking at their reigns to run free. Theo stood firm as the lightning flashed harder and louder, and the wind picked up stronger and stronger.

"Let her go," he repeated. "Or what?" the highwayman holding Dorothea asked. He pressed his revolver deep into her temple. "You don't even have a weapon, man! Just go home before I decide to blow your brains out along with the old man's." The storm clouds grew more tempestuous, and Theo stood ever resolute.

"I'll say it one more time. You'll let her and her father go," Theo demanded. He emphasized the "one more time" portion of his demand, making it clear this was the last time he was going to make it.

"Who do you think you are, buddy?" another one of the highwaymen asked. "Do you think you're Zeus or something?"

Theo scratched his bearded chin and smirked, caressing his brown goatee as the storm clouds became more and more violent, and the lightning appeared to strike closer and closer to the earth.

"And what if I was?" he asked. At that moment, the highwaymen laughed for a second. But their laughing stopped when the storm clouds only grew more violent. The sky was so black that no light could penetrate it, the wind was so violent that trees struggled to hold onto the earth with their roots. And the lightning, the ever present lightning of the tempestuous storm clouds, was striking no longer the air, but the ground around Theo. Even more startling to the highwaymen was the path the lightning took to the ground, as it seemed to emerging not just from the clouds, but from Theo's hand.

"Oh Jesus Christ," the highwayman holding Dorothea swore. His hands trembled, struggling to hold the revolver as he lost control of his extremities.

"Sorry," Theo mocked. He raised his right hand, all five of his fingers outstretched as the storm clouds grew as violent as they could. "You got the wrong guy." And with that, five bolts of lightning traveled into each of the highwaymen, charring their bodies and stopping their hearts cold, as Dorothea and her father were released from the grip of the bandits.

As Dorothea fell to the ground in tears, Theo rushed to her side and held her close. The storm clouds soon began to dissipate, as the wind died down and the lightning stopped cracking across the sky.

"Theo," Dorothea stuttered. "Theo..did you really just..?"

"Shhh," he said. He rubbed the tears from under her eyes and held her close, letting her cry gently as George came to him and knelt on one knee.

"How can I ever thank you, my lord?" he asked. Theo made no verbal request, instead electing to nod toward the young woman he held in his arms. George looked at the two and nodded in affirmation, making Theo smile and hold Dorothea closer to his body.

"I will assure you that you shall never have to worry about bandits on this road again," Theo declared. "And I shall assure you that as long as we are together, your crops shall be more bountiful and your olives and their oil shall taste like nothing this world has ever tasted." George was humbled, and bowed his head in devotion as he rested on his knees.

"Thank you," he said. His voice trembled as he knelt at Theo's foot. "Thank you so very much, lord Zeus."

* * *

_Several Months Later  
Atop Mount Olympus  
_

The normal tranquility atop Mount Olympus was shattered when Zeus returned. He barged through the doors of its main ramparts, stomping down the hall in a manner so furious that it made the whole mountain quake as if it was going to fall apart at its seams. Hephaestus and his brother, Ares, each grabbed weapons, fearing that the shaking was the result of an attack, perhaps even by the Titans themselves that Zeus had fought so hard to locked away in Tartarus. Artemis, who was looking to strike down a poacher hunting a stag in her forest, rushed back to Olympus as she felt the earth shake under Zeus's might. Even Poseidon and Hades, whom seldom left their respect realms of the sea and underworld, rushed from their realms at the feelings of the earth shaking the way it was. Poseidon in particular knew that for the earth to shutter in such a manner without his own doing meant that something had truly enraged his brother.

The first to greet him at the doors was Hermes, the trusted messenger of Olympus and Zeus's primary liason between himself and his mortal lovers when he was too busy attending to business on Mount Olympus. Zeus's furious stomping was so strong that it sent Hermes's normally tightly strapped winged helmet bouncing off his head and onto the floors of Olympus's grand halls. He picked up his helmet and chased after his father, hovering up over the floor as his father moved wrathfully through Olympus's halls.

"Father," Hermes called out to his dad. He flew alongside his father's head, trying to make eye contact with the king of the Gods. "Father, what is it? What has happened to invoke your might wrath?"

"Out of my way, Hermes," Zeus ordered. He swatted his hand, slapping his son aside and sending him into the walls of Olympus. "I don't have time for you at this moment."

"But father," Hermes said. He gathered himself and flew alongside his father's side. "Surely, father, there must be something that.."

"I said get out of my way, Hermes!" Zeus shouted. With that, Zeus again swatted his son to the side and into the floor of Olympus's halls. But before he could walk any bit further, Poseidon and Hades appeared in front of him, Poseidon holding his trident at Zeus's chest.

"Move along, brothers," Zeus demanded. "I have no problems with either of you at this moment. It is my.."

"Zeus, you will talk before you continue on with this madness," Poseidon ordered. "Do you not realize what you are doing right now?"

"Yes, brother," Hades said. "Was it really so necessary to cause an earthquake of that nature? Charon cannot ferry all those souls over to the underworld by himself!"

"He will be compensated then in full, Hades," Zeus said. "Now, if both of you will excuse me and get back to your realms, I have business with.."

"Listen to your brother, Zeus!" Poseidon demanded. "What has occurred in the world to invoke such wrath upon it at your hands?"

"Nothing that you two or any of my children could have possibly caused," Zeus said. "Only one being left in this world could cause me such strife and invoke such wrath. And unless you two want to be targets of my wrath, I suggest you both stay out of my way!"

With that, Zeus continued to storm down the hallway past his brothers. The two chased after him as he marched down the hallway, marching toward the very end of the hallway. As they chased him, Poseidon began to piece together what had transpired to bring Zeus into this wrathful state. He may not have known what exactly caused it, but he knew something was done by one being and only one being to incur it. And as he chased after his elder brother, he saw the king of the Olympian gods reach the large doors at the end of Olympus's golden halls to the personal chamber of the King and Queen of Olympus. And as Zeus went to open them, Poseidon watched as he was stopped by his elder sister.

"You mustn't do this, Zeus!" Demeter, the elder goddess of fertility and agriculture, begged. "You know how she can be with your behavior.."

"What did you say, you old hag?" Zeus shouted. He grabbed Demeter by her throat, holding her up and making her squirm in his fist. "With my behavior? What I have done but.."

At that moment, Zeus dropped Demeter to the floor. A burning sensation shot across his spine, making him lose his grip on the goddess. Turning around, he saw his other sister, Hestia, standing behind him with her hand outstretched, flaming from the fire pulsing through her veins. Zeus stood up to face her, staring her down with his cold gaze.

"You dare challenge me, Hestia?" he questioned.

"You've caused enough damage today, my king," she stated calmly. "I will not let you cause anymore, especially to my sisters."

"How dare you stand in front of me," Zeus grumbled. "I shall put you in your place just as I will put your sister in her place." He held out his hand, grabbing a ball of lightning and making the entire room flicker with the light of a billion watts of electricity pulsating from his body.

"You may strike me with a million lightning bolts," Hestia declared. "But you shall not strike down my sisters!" And with that, Hestia threw a wave of fire at her king, watching a scorching wave of flame burn through the halls of Olympus. As it shot across the room, Zeus threw his lightning bolts at the goddess of hearth and flame, watching the two forces collide. The other gods present watched in awe at the battle, as the wave of fire and bolts of lightning collided again and again. Though Hestia was able to halt some of the bolts, Zeus only summoned more and power to direct at the goddess. Hestia tried to summon all the flame she could, but the King of the Gods commanded a force far more powerful then her flames. As she became overwhelmed, Poseidon and Hades jumped to intervene to stop the onslaught. But before they could, the oak doors that led to Zeus's chamber slammed open, casting a bright light upon the hallway, with a shadowed figure in the middle. All the gods focused on the figure, which stepped out to reveal itself as none other then Hera, queen of the gods.

"Stop this," she demanded. "Stop this, all of you! Can't you all see that you have caused enough damage today?"

"You," Zeus interrupted. He faced his wife for a brief moment, locking their sapphire blue eyes together as he moved toward her. Hera stood firm, not stepping back an inch as her king and husband moved closer, causing the peacock feathers in her auburn hair to nearly come lose with the wind that Zeus was generating from his anger.

"Yes, me," Hera shot back. "What have I done this time, my king? What is it that I have done to incur such a temper tantrum the likes of which is leveling our land as we speak. What have I done?"

Zeus growled before grabbing Hera by the collar of her flowing red robe. "You," he said. His words were spoken deep and slowly, as if they were grinding against his teeth, tongue, and walls of his mouth. "You bitch! What have you done this time?" He slapped her across the face, holding her so she did not fly across the room. Hera turned her head to stare down her husband, looking more angry and more resolved then she did before she slapped him. The other gods watched closely as Zeus hit Hera again, knowing better then to intervene. Even Hestia, who had so often been the one to step between Zeus and Hera when they fought, stood aside as her sister was beaten by her brother's hand.

Zeus beat her until he could realize that it did nothing, and set her down on her feet. She stared at him, not saying a word and remaining every resolved to say nothing in the face of her husband and king. Staring into his eyes, Hera turned around and walked back into their chamber, slamming the door shut on her husband. Furious, Zeus opened the door and followed inside. The other gods present decided to stand by the door, holding their ears up to hear the argument going on inside.

"How could you do this?" Zeus demanded. He walked after his wife, following her until she looked out one of the windows to her chamber where she would watch the world from her chamber. "How could you be so cruel to her, Hera? I understand, you have been cruel to many of my consorts, and some deservedly so! But what you have done to Dorothea, I mean she has done nothing wrong! I have not brought myself into her bed yet.."

"Yet," Hera hissed. "Yet, but you would. Not only would you bring yourself into her bed, but you will, because that is who you are! You would, Zeus, because you have never met a woman that you have not liked!"

The room grew cold with her voice, Zeus sensing the rage in his queen's demeanor. He had known Hera to become mad at him for taking many lovers, but never like this. Still, he resolved to reason with her. In the end he knew no beating or physical punishment could get his message across. Only talking, like they had done so many times before, would resolve it. Slowly, he stepped closer to his wife.

"My queen," he began. "I understand your feelings." He wrapped his arm around her slowly, feeling her tremble but still not moving an inch. "I understand how you must feel to see me bed mortal women. I know how it must make you feel to see me take mortal beauty so much when I have access to easily the most beautiful woman that the universe has ever seen." He saw the tears pour down her eyes and brushed them aside, making her shiver further. "But you must understand. Everything I have with them is just passion and desire. It is carnal. It is not any love.."

At that moment, Hera turned to deliver her own slap to her husband's face. Zeus stumbled back, holding his face in pain. He knew that in terms of raw strength and without his lightning bolts, Hera could match him in a fight. Their love making sessions often seemed more like wrestling matches to him then they were any sort of normal mortal sex, and he always loved when he ultimately gave in and let him conquer her the way he knew she liked to be. And though she could curse her husband with the words that would make a Spartan warrior proud, he never knew her to strike his visage.

"It's not love," Hera said. Her voice squeaked through tears at first, but Zeus watched her collect herself and talk with the firm tone that made her an ideal second in command among the Olympians. "Yes, I know it has never been love before. With Leto, with Alcimede, with Danae, with any of those countless women that you have picked over the years. I know that, Zeus! And I had even accepted it because I thought deep down you still loved me!"

Zeus stared her intently as she continued. "But after seeing you with her and what you have done with this Dorothea, who I will add was at least up to my standards in terms of beauty, I could not let it continue! How could you, Zeus? How could you propose to wed yourself to a mortal woman?"

On the other side of the door, the other gods gasped. What Hera was accusing Zeus of was truly an unheard of charge. They knew their king loved mortal women and loved having sex with them, but they had never known Zeus to fall in love with a mortal woman. Even Alcimede, the mother of his favorite son, Heracles, was not protected by his divine power. They knew Zeus frequently cut off contact with the mothers of his children, and that Hera, even when he cheated on her, was the only woman in the universe to earn Zeus's romantic love was Hera. Even when his mortal lovers could satisfy Zeus's desires and fetishes more then Hera could, Zeus always went back to her because, as they knew, she loved him. To hear that Zeus was in love with a mortal woman was a charge that none of them could believe to be true.

"Hera, it's not what you think," Zeus said.

"It's not what I think?" Hera said. She stomped over to her husband to stare him in the eyes. "It's not what I think? Do you forget what I am patron of, Zeus?"

"Of course not!" he said. He struggled to get the right words of his mouth. "It's just not what you think.." Her hand reconnected with his face.

"I am the patroness of marriage and you think I don't recognize when someone tries to form a sacred bond with another?" she said. "Of course you were going to marry her! She had agreed to the proposal! How could you, Zeus? Does our marriage mean nothing to you?"

"Of course not, Hera," Zeus said. He tried touching her shoulders, but she slipped away, unwilling to let herself be touched by his hands. "Yes, I had fallen in love with her, I had wanted to marry her. But she is an amazing woman, a woman who.."

"Who what?" Hera asked. "What can she do that I cannot?"

"She is devoted to me, Hera," Zeus said. He watched his wife pace about in their chamber, her red robe flowing along the floor. "She is devoted to me as a husband and she would not strike me in disrespect. She would not challenge me. And she is a simple woman! All she wants is to grow olives. For Gaea's sake, is that so bad? Is that why you had to smite her, Hera? Because she grew the finest olives in all of Greece?"

When he finished, he watched her freeze still and lock her own icy gaze with his. He could see that she his words had penetrated her heart and shattered into a billion pieces. The words he had said to her shot to her very core, hurting her more then any of his lightning bolts could have. He had claimed that a mortal woman could be more devoted to her husband and be a better wife then she could. She was Hera, queen of Olympus and leader of the goddesses. Her tumultuous union with Zeus had stood for centuries as an example of how couples should remain together and cooperate in times of strife. Their union was supposed to be eternal. And Zeus had claimed that the union he was going to have with a mortal woman, a grower of olives nonetheless, was going to be a more devoted and better husband to him was a notion that she could not believe she heard.

Her response surprised Zeus. "If you think she could be a better wife, get Hades to return her from Asphodel, and live with her as a mortal then. If I'm not good enough for you as an immortal, Zeus, then you should consort only with beings whose mortality fits your desires as both a god to be worshiped and a husband to be devoted to. Obviously, my immortality somehow means I mean less devoted to you then she was, so I think you should just go."

Again, the gods on the other side gasped. Hera's charge was one that seemed absurd, as was Zeus's claim that this woman could be more devoted to him then Hera was.

"For the record," Hades said to his fellow gods. "I will not be returning her from Asphodel. I don't really make those kinds of bargains with him."

"Shut up so we can listen!" Demeter ordered. Hades rolled his eyes and remained silent.

And they grew further shocked when they heard Zeus's response. "Fine, then I shall! It does not even have to be with Dorothea. It can be with any woman! And it doesn't have to be my immortality that makes them devoted to me. I can have many women devoted to me as a mortal man and be more devoted to me then you ever were for all the millenia that we were married, Hera!"

"So be it then," Hera stated. "Go, live among mortals and let them show your devotion to you, Zeus. Go rot in this world that pays us little tribute and little respect anymore. Just get out of my sight."

With that, Zeus turned and stormed out of his chamber and out of Mount Olympus. The other gods stepped inside and gathered around Hera, who stood with a resolute gaze aimed at the world below. They remained unsure of what was to become of their kingdom, and of their king who was going to forsake his immortality for a time.


	2. Choice

Chapter 2-Choice

* * *

_Nineteen Years Later  
Miami, Florida  
_  
A group of men in white suits stumbled out of Miami's playmate club. They were all a bit drunk, some more so then others, and all of them had a woman in their arms. They were there to celebrate the engagement of one of the men, Miami Dolphins linebacker Doriel Whitley, to his third wife. Doriel had thrown a massive party for his friends, inviting all of his teammates from the Miami Dolphins and a few of his closest friends in the sports world. He bought out the Playmate's bar and all its girls, assuring that each of his friends, even the married ones, were given the proper lap dance and that the music was to their liking. All in all, party totaled over 300 people, both men and women, whom Doriel hosted. And by two o'clock in the morning, the party was over.

Flash Olympios was one of the men who was at the party walking out with a lady. Flash did not play in Miami, but he made it his winter residence when he had moved from the east coast. He had met Doriel at a Miami Heat game, finding him to be a likable, if not boisterous and somewhat foolish character, whom he was more then happy to patronize with his presence. Doriel, like Flash, was a man's man. He could drink like few that Flash had ever seen, and he had a way with the ladies that Flash knew could be attributed to more then money. And Doriel was a good "brotha", as Flash knew Doriel liked to call him. He had set him up with the finest property that he could find in Miami and the number of any girl that Flash wanted to get but didn't have the time to stop himself. And with a gorgeous brunette lady with solid green eyes named Kerri in his arms, Flash never felt happier to be in Doriel's circle of friends.

"Yo yo yo yo yo..yo..brotha," Doriel stammered. Flash could tell he was impeded by the alcohol in his speech, but he smiled at Doriel's ability to balance himself. "Thanks for showin' up tonight. It means a lot."

"Of course, D-Whit," Flash said. He shook Doriel's hand firmly, firm as any man should shake another man's hand in Flash's mind. "You going to be okay?"

"Oh it's fine!" he said. "I got me a limo!" He laughed boisterously for no reason. Flash and Kerri, along with the other men and their consorts, stood by in silence. "A limo man! Hey, yo, you need a ride a home, Brotha? You can't be too good."

"No, I'm fine," Flash said. "I didn't have that much to drink." He turned to Kerri, who was resting in his left arm. "Shall we go, beautiful?"

"I think so," she said. She gave him a lustful smile. Flash rewarded her with a peck on the lips, which earned him a giggle from the green eyed brunette.

"That settles it," Flash proclaimed. "Gentlemen, I'll be watching you on Sunday. D-Whit, be a hero and slay those Bills for me, will you my man?"

"You got it, brotha!" Doriel gave Flash a high five. "See you around!" With that, Flash and Kerri left Doriel, his teammates, and their consorts.

He drove his Lamborghini Aventador without regard for the speed limit. She clutched the sides of the leather lined seat tightly, feeling each shift of the car as Flash drove quicker and quicker out of South Beach, leaving behind the fading lights of Miami's glitzy night life and toward his own personal mansion in the neighborhood of Coral Gables. When they got to the massive complex he wasted no time, kissing her forcefully as she held onto him. With his strength, he heaved her into his arms and carried her bridal style into his home.

She tore at the buttons on his clothes as he took her to his special room. It was a bedroom in the house that he had purposely dedicated to sexual escapades, a room that always smelled of the freshest lavender and always had the right lighting. It was a room that he had designed by his personal matchmaker and her son, a room that they created specifically to increase both of their carnal desires. Once he reached the room, he let it be known how much he desired her.

Ever gentle to how she was rough, he released her breasts from the cups of her bra and took them into his hands. She sighed and smiled as he took her nipples into his mouth, giving them a treatment that no other man had ever given her. It made her shudder as if she was already having an orgasm, a sensation that she had never experienced before. And as he caressed her sex with his fingers through her thong she began to moan, moaning his name in a manner that only made him show her how truly experienced that he was.

After he received oral treatment from her and she received his fingers, she mounted him and rode him. She screamed his name and moaned louder and louder with each gyration of her hips, bringing herself from one orgasm to the next. After awhile they changed positions, ultimately ending up with him behind her as Kerri held herself up on her hands and knees and he penetrated her from behind.

"Oh, Flaaaaaaaasshhhhh," she moaned. "Oh Flash...oh god yes, Flash!" He continued to penetrate her with greater fervor, feeling Kerri tighten as he felt another climax come closer and closer. And his own nerve endings were firing off, telling him that he was close to orgasm himself and he needed to be careful. But neither Flash nor Kerri experienced the orgasm. As she was about to shudder in another wave of pleasure and Flash was about to release his seed, his cell phone began to chirp.

"What?" Kerri said. She pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "What was that?"

"It's probably nothing," he said. "Come on, get on your knees." She laughed and went to get back in the position, but the phone kept on ringing. Annoyed, Flash went to check the phone to see who was calling him.

When he saw the caller ID, he sighed but answered it. "I'm a bit busy right now," he said. He paused while the caller continued to speak. "What do you mean you're at my house? What do you mean it's important?" Flash sighed. "Fine, fine! I'm coming. Just let me get some clothes on."

Kerri watched in confusion as Flash went to put on some shorts and a white T shirt and straightened out his wavy, neck length brown hair. "What is it, Flash?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Kelly," he began.

"Kerri," she interrupted. Flash could hear the annoyance in her voice and cursed himself.

"Right, Kerri," he said. He shook his head. "It's my agent, he wants to talk."

"Right now? Can't he wait until the morning?"

"I don't think so." He slipped on a pair of Nike sneakers and began to walk out of the room. "Stay put and watch some TV. I'll be back soon."

"Whatever, Flash," Kerri scoffed. Flash watched Kerri pull the bed covers over he walked out of the room. He walked down the hallway irritated, feeling like his agent could wait until he had finished his conquest of Kerri's sex. If there was anything Flash hated the most in this world, it was being interrupted during sex. He always finished the job for both himself and his partners, and that status was being put in jeopardy. He would not let anything less then the utmost important developments stop him.

His agent stood in the main foyer of the mansion, tossing his Detroit Red Wings cap up and down in the air and whistling a song that Flash knew all too familiarly. "This better be good, Harry," Flash said.

"Okay," Harry said. "First of all,.." He threw the hat up in the air and caught it on his head. "Would you cut it out with the Harry thing? I'm really not in the mood to be called Harry with what's been going on."

"Fine, fine," Flash said through his teeth. "This better be good, _Hermes._"

"Much better," Hermes chimed. The god of athletes and sports tapped his feet to extend the wings from his sneakers and fluttered up to Flash. "I figured you more the anyone else would like to be called by your name, father. You are after all the King of the Gods, lord Zeus."

"If you're going to talk that way, Hermes, you might as well beseech me in a proper manner that befits the Master of Men," Zeus demanded. "Especially when he was in the middle of an intimate session with a beautiful woman."

"My apologies then, lord Zeus," Hermes said. He rolled his eyes. Even when his father had forsaken his lightning bolts and immense strength, Hermes knew he could still be incredibly short tempered and pretentious. He knelt on his feet and produced a scroll from thin air, choosing to forgo his mortal tablet computer and instead deliver his message in the way they did in the olden days.

"I bring news that there is a team with serious interest to sign lord Zeus, or should I say 'Flash Olympios', to a contract for the upcoming Major League Baseball season," Hermes proclaimed. Immediately, he saw the irritable demeanor his father and king had once possessed left his face and a positive demeanor moved into his visage.

"Well, shall we see the terms of this deal?" Zeus asked. "Come, let us see this, Hermes. Lets do it over a some beer."

Hermes followed after his father down the foyer of the mansion into the kitchen as Zeus reached into the refrigerator. "You know," Hermes said. "I hate to be as pretentious as you, father, but I'd much prefer wine to this beer that you have grown so fond of here in the mortal world."

"Why of course!" Zeus proclaimed. He reached over and grabbed a bottle of pinot grigio and opened it with a wine opener, pouring a glass for both himself and his soon. "So, what's the contract like?"

"Well," Hermes began. He laid out the scroll on the counter and rolled it out, letting Zeus begin to gaze at it under the light. "It's nothing like the last three, to say the least." He watched his father scan the paper with his eyes like he once scanned the mortal world, looking for an imperfection that had to be corrected. And immediately, he found two glaring issues.

"A five million dollar salary on a one year deal?" Zeus questioned. "Hermes, I received more then this on my rookie contract with the Padres!"

"I know, father," Hermes said. "But there's something you must understand."

"But I needed more then one year and five million dollars!" Zeus exclaimed. "How could this be the only contract that you could possibly get for me when you got me a ten year, 280 million dollar deal last time?"

"Father, you need to understand something," Hermes said. "Since you've done this whole pro athlete experiment the past several years and have done it without any of your immortal strength, you've gotten older.."

"Older? That shouldn't mean a thing," Zeus boasted. He took a sip from his wine. "Being older means that I am assuredly wiser, with more guile and wisdom then.."

"Father, will you please just listen to me for just once?" Hermes shouted. Zeus glanced at his son, never knowing the messenger of Olympus to raise his voice to anyone, much less the king of the gods. But he decided to humor his immortal son, did not raise his voice, and assured Hermes he would listen.

"Listen, father," Hermes began. "Because you've done this without any of your immortal strength, your subject to the same wear and tear that a human body goes through. And yes, you have not been on the disabled list for an injury that you could not help, sans that Rigoberto Romero come backer that hit your shin in Anaheim..."

"Oh don't remind me," Zeus interrupted. "It still hurts to think about it." He rubbed his left thigh, wincing at the thought of the pain it had given him when he struck by the line drive.

"As I was saying," Hermes said. He let his tone indicate his seriousness. "I'm sure you recognize this to. Your numbers aren't the same as they used to be, father. You can't throw throw a high nineties fastball anymore, much less the 102 mile per hour heat you used to throw in your heyday. Your ferocious slider and that wicked splitter you once possessed aren't the same pitches anymore. Your stuff just lacks, oh I don't know, for lack of a better term it doesn't have the same zing it once did, father. You're growing old, and your numbers show it."

"But I feel as spry as ever!" Zeus proclaimed. "My mechanics feel great! I can still throw it as hard as I want to."

"Your numbers certainly don't indicate that you're as spry as ever, father.

"Come now, Hermes." Zeus took another sip of his wine as he looked at the contract. "I had a fine season last year with the Red Sox."

"Right, lets look those numbers again," Hermes said. He pulled out his tablet and brought up Zeus's page on . "Okay, last season for Flash Olympios, starting pitcher for the Boston Red Sox. 13-12 with a 4.40 earned run average, 152 strikeouts, and somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty walks. Father, correct me if I'm wrong, but that is decidedly mediocre of you."

"Perhaps you're right that it was a bit of a down a year for me last year, but I certainly deserve more then five million dollars on a one year salary."

"Father, your mortal body will be forty years old this season," Hermes said. "It is not the body of an Olympian god. It is the forty year old mortal body an Olympian god would want if they had to have a forty year old mortal body, and this simply isn't good enough."

"Maybe you can grant me a sip of Olympus's finest ambrosia?" Zeus proposed. "That could fix things for a few more years. If I drank the ambrosia and threw some bullpens, I bet I could make even more money."

"Are you saying that you want to cheat ?" Hermes asked. "I'm sure Commissioner Selig would love to hear that. I could just see the headlines..'Top pitcher caught testing positive for the nectar of Mount Olympus. Suspended for life from Major League Baseball.' Wouldn't that be a great ending to an otherwise marvelous adventure in the mortal world."

"Oh come on that, that wouldn't happen, Hermes. I mean, I'm a god. That's what I do, I drink ambrosia."

"You're missing the point, father," Hermes said. "You aren't a god anymore. You're a mortal man who is reaching the end of his athletic career. And I cannot get you ambrosia just because you want to prolong this charade to prove your wife wrong!"

"But Hermes," Zeus began.

"Don't you but Hermes me, father," Hermes ordered. "You just can't bear to the truth, can you? That you're too old to be an athlete and you want to be a god again!" Zeus, enraged at his son's insolence, threw his wine glass at Hermes. The messenger god dodged it and watched the glass shatter on the wall behind them, staining the white paint a pinkish hue and leaving glass shards on the floor. "Was that really necessary?"

"I swear if I had my lightning bolts, Hermes.." Zeus growled. The elder god began to storm out of the kitchen. Hermes flew in front of him, holding the contract. "Out of my way. I have 'business' to attend to."

"Not until you finish looking at the contract," Hermes ordered. Sighing, Zeus went back over to his kitchen table and began to reread the terms of the contract. The contract contained many odd pieces, such as to keep time spent in bars to a minimum, no appearances in tabloids or any other media outlets outside of news, and no girlfriends or public consorts. Zeus wondered what all this was for, but thought he could deal with it for only a season. But after reading those stipulations he looked back at the top of the contract and realized the team offering it.

"You can' t be serious, Hermes!" Zeus exclaimed. "This contract was offered by the Yankees!"

"You bet," Hermes said. He had a gleeful smile with Zeus wanted to tear off and glue to his Hermes behind. "They were the only team to show interest. Apparently they think a veteran arm could help their team."

"But I can't play in New York," Zeus said. "I'm beloved in Boston. Then I'd be a traitor."

"Father, they hardly liked you off the baseball field in Boston," Hermes reminded Zeus. "What with the nickname 'Crash Olympios', all the playoff losses, 'Beer and Chicken 2, the Flashing of the Failure' playoff collapse scandal this year. I mean, you're hardly viewed in the same league as David Ortiz is in Boston."

"Even still, the Yankees aren't even close to playoff contention yet," Zeus stated. "Sure, they have some nice young players and they have Mark Wright, but nothing that would let them compete with the Red Sox."

"That's exactly why I told the Yankees you wanted a cheap contract," Hermes quipped. "It's all the make the effort more laborious."

"Why are you doing this, Hermes?" Zeus asked. "I deserve far more then a one year, five million dollar deal full of restrictions on my personal life with the New York Yankees!"

"There is a reason for all this, father," Hermes said. He pulled out another scroll from his messenger bag, a scroll which contained the laws and regulations that all the gods living on Olympus must abide by. "The Laws of Olympus, Section Five, Paragraph B, subsection 1A. If a god chooses to forsake his or hers immortality to live in the mortal world, that god must complete a series of tasks design to earn the favor of the ruling god of Olympus."

Zeus felt his jaw fall open and placed his head in his right hand. His left hand smashed the kitchen table in a fist, making it shake slightly and making the centerpiece rattle. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he cursed. "How could I forget the rules!"

"I don't know," Hermes said. He rolled his eyes. "But you know what this means, right?"

"So this whole contract is," Zeus began. He did not continue to speak. He believed he knew exactly what the contract was for, but Hermes chose to explain anyway.

"Father, as god of athletes, I recognize that your athletic career is about to end," Hermes began. "I need to get you back into Olympus, but I cannot do that without you fulfilling this. If you win a title for the Yankees, your godhood will be restored." Zeus sighed, believing that the task outlined in the contract was for another purpose that he did not even want to consider at the moment.

"There must be other options," Zeus said. "There has to be another way then this contract."

"There may be, but they are far more treacherous and dangerous then this," Hermes said. "You go out there, you win the world series with the Yankees, and I'll assure you that you can get back into Olympus. And I will be the one who makes sure of it."

Zeus began to drum his fingers on the kitchen table, holding his head up in his left hand while pondering the options. Hermes fluttered around him, waiting for him to pick up the pen and sign the contract. Zeus continued to think about his options, running each one that he could think of in his head. He knew of the other options but he knew Hermes was right. This was the best way for him to get back into Olympus, so he picked up the pen and signed the bottom of the contract.

"Tell the Yankees that I will need some pinstripes," Zeus ordered. "We're going to do this and we're going to do this right, Hermes."

"I'm glad you see it my way, father," Hermes said. He took the contract and rolled it up, placing it inside of his messenger bag. He went to flutter out the door, but Zeus stopped him before he could leave.

"Hermes," Zeus began. "Please make sure that _she_ does not know of this. Understand?"

"I understand, father!" And with that, Hermes flew out of Zeus's window and into the sky. And this time, as Hermes flew off to deliver the contract and head back to Mount Olympus, he consigned himself to disobey his father for once in his immortal life. For he knew that if he did not reveal Zeus's secret to one of the gods on Olympus, Zeus stood no chance of ever getting his godhood back.

* * *

_A Week Later  
Atop Mount Olympus_

Hermes knew he had a quandary on his hands when he made the decision to disobey Zeus in regard to their plans. He knew there was no way that he could accomplish their goals without disobeying Zeus, but this still caused him some problems. Hermes was never good with telling the truth, and the god who he had to tell the truth to was not exactly one who it would be easy to tell it to. For that reason, Hermes went to consult his brother, Apollo, a prophetic god who oversaw all matters regarding truth. Apollo, however, was less them helpful.

"Come on, Apollo," Hermes begged. "You're acting ridiculous right now!"

"I'm not doing it," the god of truth stated. He picked up his lyre and began to strum away, producing another beautiful medley that emanated throughout Mount Olympus. Hermes was not amused, but Apollo paid no attention to the messenger god's exasperation.

"You're the god of truth and you're not going to tell it to someone who clearly deserves to hear it?" Hermes questioned. "What is the logic in that?"

"Hermes," Apollo began. He set down his lyre and began to walk toward his hovering brother, the two walking along the edge of Olympus's ramparts and at the foot of it's largest staircase. "I don't think you understand what's been going on here for the past what, twenty years now?"

"Apollo.." Hermes began.

"Don't 'Apollo' me, brother," Apollo ordered. "I'm the patron of truth, not the patron of exposing charades! There is no reason why I have to tell anyone, much less _her_, about this matter."

"But you can't just withhold the truth like this! You have to.."

"Excuse me, boys," Demeter called out. Hermes and his step brother turned to see their aunt standing on the steps leading up to Olympus's main hall. "I couldn't help but overhear you two talking and..were you talking what I think you were talking about?"

"If you assume we're talking about a certain god who isn't here anymore and a certain goddess who doesn't know of the whereabouts of said god, then yes," Hermes said. "That's what we're talking about."

"Hermes, you son of a bitch!" Apollo cursed.

"Apollo!" Demeter exclaimed. "Don't use such language around your brother. It's uncouth of you."

"Aunt Demeter, you must understand," Apollo said. "I'm sure you understand who exactly we're talking of at this moment. And you certainly do understand what could come if we told said 'goddess', who mind you may or may not be queen of the gods, about the whereabouts of said 'god', who may or may not be the king of the gods in a mortal shell. It probably wouldn't be good."

"You're overreacting, Apollo," Hades said. The three gods all turned to see the lord of the dead standing before them on Olympus's steps, standing a few steps higher then them, at the doors of Olympus's main hall.

"Uncle Hades you must understand.." Apollo started.

"Understand what? That I, like Hermes, think this charade has gone on a little too long?" The grey lord of the dead stepped closer to his blonde haired nephew and his older sister. "Look, this whole thing is stupid. Hera deserves to know what has become of Zeus."

"If she knows she will smite him and send him to Tartarus! Even with the rules in place she does not deserve to know where my father is."

"Then you don't know your stepmother one bit, Apollo, and that pisses me off," Hades said. Apollo could feel the lord of the dead's lifeless words on his skin, making him shiver at the cold aura projected by his uncle. "You know that she is more then just some wrathful, jealous woman."

"Hades is right," Demeter interjected. "Even after Zeus brought you and your sister to Olympus, he trusted my sister to raise you right, and I think she did. You may not know it, but she is very fond of you, Apollo, and she cares about you very much."

"She may care about me but she clearly doesn't care about him," Apollo remarked. "She'd smite him the moment she knew of his whereabouts."

"Oh, I think she'd beg to differ," Hermes retorted. Hermes began to fly away from the other gods, up the stairs and into the golden halls of Olympus, where he would find Hera's chamber.

"Hold up there, fly boy," Apollo called out. Hermes turned around to find his step brother, aunt, and uncle following after him as he made his way up to the golden hall of Olympus. Hermes stopped in his tracks, and hovered in his brother's face, never letting his feet touch the ground. "Look, I'm the patron of truth, so I think you're going to need my help to break the news to her. Especially if it's going to affect how we approach the rules."

"So, you're going to help me?" Hermes quipped.

"Yes, Hermes, I'm going to help you," Apollo said through his teeth. He hated getting coerced, especially by Hermes. "And I think our aunt and uncle will help us to, right?"

"Why of course!" Demeter exclaimed. "You know I am always there for my little sister. Hades, will you be.."

"Okay, okay, you don't need to ask me about jumping on the Helping Hera bandwagon. Sheesh!" The Lord of the Dead followed his elder sister and two nephews close behind, hoping to say as little as possible to his enthroned sister regarding the whereabouts of his now mortal brother.


	3. Wrestling

**AN: So, this chapter update took a few more days due to work and some Christmas shopping busy-ness. But I guarantee you that future updates will be either a bit more frequent or at the same pace, considering I'm on winter break at the moment. **

**Also, for those who have followed this little ditty of a fanfic, the title has changed three different times since it's been up. As of this chapter and for the rest of the story will be titled "Pitching to the Gods." **

**As always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks again to for all the support!  
-Symbiotic**

* * *

Chapter 3-Wrestling

* * *

On the other side of Mount Olympus, far from where Hermes and his fellow gods had gathered to convene on how to best tell Hera the truth of Zeus's whereabouts, Hera herself was engaging in a far different activity. She stood in a tight white robe at the edge of a circular sand pit, an extension of Olympus's own personal arena where the gods would challenge each other to feats of athletic strength, to see which was the most fit and who was truly the strongest. Though each god had their own form of favorite competition, such as Apollo favoring chariot races against his brother, Ares, or Zeus and Poseidon frequently dueling in contests of javelin throwing, Hera had preferred another form of competition to test her strength. She preferred to engage in pankration, a hybrid of wrestling and kickboxing that both mortals and the gods enjoyed partaking in as a form of competition.

She had first learned the art after Heracles, her once hated stepson, had arrived on Olympus. After coming to terms with the hero whom she had spent so much effort to destroy, she asked Heracles how he was able to slay the Nemian lion. Once she showed him his own personal style and those that he had learned from his time in the mortal world, she became hooked on the martial art ever since. In time she became so enthralled by the art that she had often practiced it against Zeus as a way to take out her rage on him against him when he bedded mortal lovers. It was her one way to dominate him as the king of the gods, as both she and Zeus recognized that she was an equal of his in terms of raw strength and it was only his lightning bolts that allowed him to hold physical power over her.

In Zeus's absence, Hera continued to practice pankration with different opponents. Her most common opponent was Athena, another one of Zeus's many children that he had fostered out of another marriage, though Athena came of far more interesting circumstances then a simple affair with a mortal. Because of her tactful and wise nature that came from her mother, Metis, and Zeus's already immense guile, Hera always had kept close tabs on Athena and was sure to school her in a manner that would let Athena flourish as a patroness of heroes and goddess of strategic warfare without giving her too much power. Athena in turn had grown into a loyal attendant of her queen, so much so that Hera agreed to promote her to second in command in Zeus's absence.

The queen of the gods stood at the edge of the sand circle, putting up her hands as she stared down the war goddess. "It's funny, Athena," Hera began. She stepped toward her opponent and offered out one of her hands. "Since you've become my sparring partner, I don't think I've ever had to get you any other sustenance."

"Are you implying that I like to eat sand, my lady?" Athena said. She took the queen's hand and then stepped back to the edge of the arena. Hera watched the war goddess bounce on her feet with her hands up, trademark of Athena's fleet footed style that revolved heavily around quick, powerful kicks to the body.

"Maybe I am," Hera said. She cocked her neck from side to side, holding up her hands as she stepped back to the edge of the ring.

"Perhaps I should break you jaw then, old bitch," Athena taunted.

"Perhaps you should try, little girl," Hera retorted.

With that, Athena launched herself at the elder goddess. She held her leg high in the air, aiming at her queen's face in an attempt to strike Hera's chin with her heel. Hera stood as the younger goddess flew through the air, holding her hands up and paying close attention to how Athena intended to kick her. Analyzing her target, Hera ducked from the kick and shot up at Athena, grabbing the goddess in her arms and slamming her to the ground. This was where Hera preferred to do her fighting.

"So, what do you like to eat again?" Hera asked. She held Athena in a triangle choke, wrapping her arm tightly around the younger goddess's neck. Athena said nothing, only trying to break free of Hera's grip. She squirmed in the sand, trying to find some form of leverage against the queen of Olympus. As she tried to find a pivot for her body, Hera matched every movement that Athena had put up. Eventually, she put Athena's head into the sand, slamming it three times into the ground until Athena tapped her hand repeatedly, begging for mercy with each slap.

"Did you get a proper fill of sand today, Athena?" Hera said. She stood up and began to redress herself, removing her pankration robe for one of her more typical dresses and her peacock feather earrings, letting her auburn hair down from the knot she had tied it in. "Or do I have to feed you earth once more?"

"You just wait, my queen," Athena said. The war goddess redressed herself, donning her breastplate and loincloths as she wiped the sand from her face and spat it from her mouth. "One of these days I'm going to defeat you as I have defeated Ares and Heracles in this sport."

"The day you defeat me is the day Zeus.." Hera stopped herself from going any further and froze dead in her tracks.

"My queen?" Athena asked. "Is everything alright?"

Hera gathered herself with a few deep breaths and redirected her attention at the younger goddess, temporarily corralling the thought of Zeus's abandonment of Mount Olympus before it could run free in her mind. "It is nothing, Athena. I was just thinking of your father for a brief moment."

"It's been twenty years since he left, hasn't it, my queen?" Athena asked.

"Yes," Hera said. "It's been twenty years." She took a few more deep breaths, trying to not develop a knot in her throat and not let her body tremble under the thought of Zeus and his presence leaving Olympus. It was a difficult internal struggle. "I think I wish to be alone now, Athena."

"Are you sure, my queen?" Athena asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. I shall see you tomorrow when its time to get your daily fill of sand again. You're excused from your duties for the rest of the day." With that, the queen of the gods left the war goddess and departed from Olympus's arena, moving swiftly down its halls to her chamber and out to her own private garden.

The garden was constructed for Hera by Zeus soon after he had conquered the universe and established his power base atop Mount Olympus. After the Titanomachy and after Zeus bonded himself to Hera in marriage, making her queen of the gods, Zeus had given her the garden as a present. She had loved it and used it ever since, tending it every day to make it the paradise that she had so desired to create after she and her siblings had longed for after they fought their Titan parents. With the help of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, Hera filled the garden with the most beautiful hyacinths, forsythias, carnations, marigolds, and roses. On its marble walls and banisters grew bleeding hearts and ivy vines, and Hera had even grown to section off certain areas for growing apples and grapes that she would consume whenever she pleased. The garden even featured a small peacock population, a gift to her by Zeus that had wooed her since. She let the birds roam freely throughout the garden, giving them free range over the habitat that she had created for them and herself.

The garden was primarily a retreat for Hera, a place where she could meditate and ponder the issues pertaining her occupation as queen of Olympus and Zeus's wife. She spent time in the garden to plot her failed revolt against Zeus, and when he finally agreed to release her from the golden chains, it was the first place she retreated to before ever considering going back to her husband's embrace. When she would find that Zeus had taken another lover other then her, she would go there to weep and vent among the flowers and peacocks. Her beloved birds would gather around her and listen to her sorrows, unconditionally offering themselves to comfort their lady in her time of need. And when she would resolve to invoke her wrath upon his lovers, she would plot among the ivy vines and rose bushes, finding the best way to exact her revenge on those she believed deserved it. Since Zeus had left though, Hera used the garden not to plot revenge, but to best consolidate her power and contemplate how to best assert herself as the de facto ruler of all the gods in Zeus's absence. But even in his absence, one part of the garden other then its beauty stayed true. The garden was strictly off limits to anyone but Hera herself. The other gods only gained access to the grove when Hera gave them her explicit permission.

She expected to enter the garden and be alone aside from her favorite peacocks. Instead she walked into the garden to find her son Hermes, her stepson Apollo, her sister Demeter, and her brother Hades waiting for her around the garden's largest tree. Immediately, Hera wished to fight again. "What is the meaning of this?" she questioned. "All of you know the number one rule of this place."

"Of course, my sister," Demeter said. "We just.."

"You just what, Demeter?" Hera growled. She made it known to the other gods the discomfort and anger at their presence in her grove. "You know that this is my sacred grove. I suggest you leave."

"Sister!" Demeter exclaimed. "Calm down. We just want to talk."

"Talk of what?" Hera asked. She moved slowly toward her siblings and sons, moving with the dignified and imposing gait that the other gods recognized could only belong to someone who ruled with the kind of authority and power that she had. The other gods stepped back slowly, only stopped by the poplar tree. "What is so important for all of you to discuss that you would enter my garden without my permission?"

"Sister, please just.."

"You will call me by my name and title in this place, Demeter," Hera demanded. She stepped up to her older sister, grabbing her by the wrist and holding it tight. Hera stood down the crop goddess, letting her eyes shoot daggers into Demeter's heart. The elderly goddess grew afraid.

"Queen Hera," she begged. "You're hurting me.."

"And you have broken my rules," Hera said. She squeezed her sister's wrist tighter, making her sister wince at the pain. "Why should I not hurt you?" Two hands rested on her shoulder, and she turned to see Hermes and Hades both place one of their hands on her shoulders.

"Because," Hades said. "This is hardly a moment that calls for wrath, Hera."

"Mother," Hermes said. He fluttered around her head. "We have something that we need to tell you. Something that's important enough for us to break into your garden."

Hera sighed and let go of her sister, turning to face the lord of the dead and the Olympian messenger while the goddess of agriculture held her wrist in pain. "Fine. What is it then?"

No one said a word at first, the other gods looking at each other while Hera stared them down. "Well? Is anyone going to say anything, or will I have to throttle it out of each of you."

"Actually, Apollo does have someone to tell you," Hermes said quickly. He pointed at the prophetic god while fluttering around Hera's head.

"Hermes!" Apollo exclaimed. The patron of truth gave the Hermes an irritated look, then stood up from the poplar tree and stood in front of Hera, feeling a lump grow in his throat and stalled. Hera crossed her arms.

"Well, Apollo," Hera said. She leaned in close to the younger god's face. "I assume you have a little bit of truth to tell me, otherwise you would not be here. So, what is it? You know its wrong to withhold truth from your queen, Apollo."

"Right," he stuttered. He rubbed his head and struggled to maintain eye contact. "Hera...I have something to tell you about Zeus."

The other gods stood absolutely still. Demeter still held her wrist and watched closely at her sister. Hades and Hermes both held themselves at Hera's side, the lord of the dead waiting patiently while Hermes fluttered around Hera's head with his winged sandals. Hera initially appeared calm to them, but quickly she reached in and grabbed Apollo by the scruff of his robe and held him up, her eyes.

"You what?!" she exclaimed. "You have something to tell me about Zeus, Apollo?"

"Queen Hera, please have mercy," Apollo begged. He flailed in her grasp. "It was a mistake to not tell you what I'm going to tell you now, I understand that.."

"Oh, so you withheld truth from me, Apollo." She grabbed him by the throat. "Tell it to me now before I permanently excuse you from your role of patron of truth and reassign you to be the patron of silence!"

"Ack! Queen Hera, I just want to tell you what has become of our king, Zeus. I know where he is in the mortal world!"

"Tell me then!" Hera shouted. She tightened her grip on Apollo's throat. "What has become of Zeus, Apollo? Where is he?"

"He's an athlete in another country," Apollo squeaked. "Please, Hermes can explain more."

Hera dropped Apollo on the ground and watched the younger god retreat. She then directed her ire to Hermes, who, before he could be throttled by his queen, he pulled out the tablet computer taken from the mortal world and put it in her hands.

"What is this, Hermes?" Hera asked. She held the tablet in her hands, unfamiliar with the mortal device or how to use it.

"Mother," Hermes began. "If you want to know what has become of Zeus, I suggest you watch this."

Hermes moved his fingers over the touch screen of the tablet and brought up a video app which directed itself to a press conference. Hera watched wide eyed, looking with the utmost attention as three men approached their places at the press table.

* * *

_New York City, New York  
_

At the parking spot of Yankee Stadium, a red and white Ford Mustang with a doughnut tire on its right wheel pulled into a white lined parking spot. The driver shut the car off and began to quickly fiddle with his hair, spitting into his hands and rubbing his hair to make it flat. He sprayed some Axe body spray on himself hastily and took a tic tac, chewing on the mint before swallowing its rocky chunks down his throat. He then grabbed his two cell phones, his voice recorder, and his notepad. Quickly, he took one last glance at himself in the rear view mirror of the Mustang.

"Alright, Jason," he said to himself. "First press conference as a professional journalist." He breathed in and out heavily, inhaling and exhaling all the air he possibly could with three great heaves of his chest. "You got this man, you got questions to ask, you going to get the scoop on the story, you even changed your car's tire on the way to work in record time! It's going to be great."

Jason stumbled out of his Mustang and out into the parking lot. He sprinted quickly across the street toward the stadium, oblivious toward the cars coming in the road. As he ran into the street from the sidewalk, he was nearly hit by a box truck. Attempting to dodge the truck, Jason tried to sprint further. He succeeded in avoiding the truck, but not before dropping his phones, notepad, pens, and coffee thermos on the street.

"Watch where ya going, ya punk," the driver called out.

"Sorry!" Jason said. He quickly gathered his things and scrambled to the gates of Yankee Stadium. A security guard waited for him at the gate, standing aside the turnstile. "Hi, I'm here for the Flash Olympios press conference."

"You got a press pass?" the old security guard asked. Jason gave him a blank stare until the guard repeated himself again.

"Oh yeah, right," Jason stuttered. "My press pass. It's right here." He touched the jacket pocket where he believed he put it, but it was not there. Nervous, he dug into his jacket pockets, feeling frantically for the rectangle shaped badge that he carried on himself all times at work. Only this time he was not finding it.

"Sorry," he said. "Could you just excuse me for a moment?" The security guard watched as Jason began to empty his pockets, taking out his car keys, gloves, wads of wrapped gum, coins, tic tacs, and even a used condom onto the ground. The last item made the security guard raise his eyebrow. Jason was shocked to find his press pass not among the items he had removed from his pockets, and frantically began looking around the sidewalk, fearing that he had lost his most important piece of credentials and he'd miss the press conference without it. It was at that moment the security guard noticed something hanging from Jason's neck.

"Hey kid," the grizzled security guard called out. "What's on your neck there?"

Jason stopped and reached at what the security guard had pointed out. It was his press pass, placed on a blue and white lanyard and tucked carefully inside a black leather wallet. He bolted toward the entrance and proceeded to pat the security guard on the shoulder. "You're a lifesaver, mister. I owe you one."

"You can owe me by picking up those things on the sidewalk," the guard said. "Except the condom. Throw that thing in the trash, son."

"Right," Jason said. Sheepishly, he picked up his trinkets that he had laid out on the sidewalk, making sure he threw away the condom in a nearby trash can. Embarrassed, he walked slowly past the guard, through the turn style, and passed into the stadium.

"Damn idiot you are," he said to himself out loud. He continued to talk to himself as he walked through the otherwise dormant Yankee stadium. "Graduate top of the class from the Walter Cronkite school of journalism at Arizona State, win 'Writer of the Year' at 'The State Press', make enough money to buy yourself a car, get a job covering baseball for _Grantland_, and you can't even realize that your fucking press pass is hanging around your god damn neck! How the fuck are you going to survive a day in this business when you don't even know where your god damn press pass is?"

Before he knew it, Jason realized that the eyes of several different reporters were all staring at him in the press room of Yankee Stadium. Jason instantly felt the blood rush to his face and turn it a tomato red, a shiny tomato red as a result of the sweat pooling on his forehead from nervousness. Quickly, Jason made his way to a seat next to Joel Matthews, a veteran New York Yankees columnist for NBC who had helped Joel secure a job at _Grantland_.

"Rough morning, kid?" Joel asked. Jason sat down next to the older reporter and set down his things.

"A bit," Jason said. He panted a few times while getting his recorder ready. "I had to put a doughnut on my Mustang on the Major Deegan."

"Kid, I'm telling you, take the train in the future," Joel said. "How long have you been living in the city again?"

"About three months." Joel opened up his wallet and handed Jason a 100 dollar bill.

"Buy yourself a subway pass, kid," Joel said. "Then you won't have to deal with the Major Deegan flat tire shenanigans again."

"Thanks but no thanks, Joel," Jason said. He handed the bill back to Joel. "I can't take your money like that."

"Your loss, kid," Joel said. The older reporter put the 100 dollar bill back in his wallet. "God damn it, Flash. Taking forever as always."

"He's late?"

"Yeah. Like twenty minutes late," Joel said. "Steinbrenner must be letting him knock a lady up in the clubhouse."

"You can't be serious."

"I wouldn't put it past Flash, kid. He's an old breed kind of player. A playboy celebrity who shouldn't fit in the social media age that we've created."

"He sure has thrived in it."

"That's because our fucking society can't get enough of horndog playboy athletes."

"Even yourself, Joel?"

"Yeah, even myself." The two reporters sat fiddling with their notepads and recorders until they heard footsteps and heard the door the to press room opening. "Brace for impact, kid."

Jason swallowed and got his recorder ready, standing up at the edge of the room. His legs felt like jelly and his throat felt like it was tied in an ever greater series of complicated knots. His stomach felt sick, churning like a whirlpool. His mouth went dry. He wished he hadn't spilled his coffee. And the apprehension only grew as he saw Flash Olympios, president Randy Levine, manager David Robertson, and GM Brian Cashman take their places at the table for the press conferenc_e.  
_

The three men took their place at the table, with Flash sitting next to his new manager. A Yankees public relations employee followed them after, and was the first to speak, stating the itinerary for the press conference before Randy went to introduce Flash, followed by Brian and David. Both Brian and David gave fitting overtures about "Flash's" success as an ace in the league. Cashman talked of the Yankees desire to acquire him for many years before they were finally able to sign him, and how "Flash" had always been a favorite player of his from a talent perspective. David remarked on some of their playoff battles and regular season showdowns, reminding him that he was going to watch Flash to make sure he did not throw over batters heads the same way Flash once threw over the head of star Yankees third baseman Mark Wright. Flash smiled at it all and laughed, then took his place next to David with his new pinstriped jersey, a jersey which bore the number "11" on the back. Flash then took his place at the podium to answer questions.

Jason raised his recorder into the air and tried to wave to get the PR representatives attention. It did not work. Other journalists from other publications, many more well known then _Grantland_ got their shot before he did. Many of them asked Flash questions not about the Yankees or baseball, but of his personal life. The few questions even remotely related to baseball were simply about what it was like to go from the Yankees to the Red Sox, as if Flash was some kind of political defector and not an athlete. Jason kept his hand raised, even as has arm grew tired and he grew increasingly isolated, feeling like he was the lone journalist in the room who wanted to talk about baseball with Flash, especially as Flash appeared to be relishing the questions being given to him like he was being fed a meal at a fine restaurant.

As the press conference winded down, the PR representative from the Yankees gave the floor to three more questions for Flash to answer. The first two were taken by journalists from _TMZ _and _People __Magazine _respectively. Jason felt like he would never get an answer at this rate, and was about to put his hand down when the PR representative finally called on him to answer a question. Jason stood nervously and began fiddling with his notepad, looking for the page where he wrote down his questions.

"Hi, um," Jason mumbled. "I'm Jason Turner from _Grantland_ dot com, and I..sorry I can't find my questions here.." He flipped frantically through his notepad until he found a question for Flash. "Sorry about that..I just.."

"It's all good," Flash said with a smile. "What do you got for me?"

"Well, um," Jason stuttered. "I have a bit of a, um, baseball question for you, Flash. According to my numbers here, your home run to fly ball ratio has gone up the past four years from a six percent all the way to about eleven percent. You're moving now to Yankee Stadium, a recognized hitter's park with a park factor of about ninety percent compared to Fenway's eighty five percent. Do you feel you'll have to change your approach to be successful at Yankee stadium, or do you feel that won't be necessary?"

The other journalists looked at Jason like he was some kind of space alien. Jason felt his cheeks grow arm and sweat pool on his forehead and in his armpits. He felt like he was naked in the room, and desperately wanted to leave. As Flash thought about an answer, Jason began to pick up his stuff to try to sneak away. As he did though, Flash began to answer.

"That's a really good question, Jason," Flash said. "You're right, Yankee stadium is a hitter's park, a different one then Fenway. While I certainly don't want to completely change everything about my pitching style, I do think there will be some adapting to pitching here more often then I did with the Red Sox, for sure. But I'm certainly not afraid of the park, so I don't know how drastic those changes will be. Thank you for the question."

The PR representative ended the press conference and the reporters began to file out of the room. Jason furiously wrote down notes regarding his question and then ran toward the front of the pack of journalists, trying to catch Joel as the older journalist walked out of the press room.

"How'd I do?" Jason asked.

"You talked like you're from another world," Joel said. "Use English next time, not this advanced number ratio algebra math philosophy junk. No one cares about that stuff." Jason sighed as he walked with Joel.

"I just thought I'd ask a baseball question," Jason said. He felt defeated by Joel's answer, but wanted to justify his question. "I just wanted to know how he felt about the.."

"Kid, he's Flash Olympios and you're a rookie journalist asking questions about park metrics," he said. "Save that stuff for the geeks." The two men walked out of Yankee stadium and crossed the street together. Jason followed Joel to Joel's car. "You want to grab some lunch?"

"Nah," Jason said. "I should get to work on the piece for the website."

"Yeah," Joel said. He nodded his head and frowned at Jason. "Maybe you should." The older, grey haired journalist got into his car and went to shut the door on Jason.

"Maybe we can watch some spring training games sometime, Joel?"

Joel stopped closing his car door. "I think I'll pass," Joel said. "I got other things to do." With that, Joel shut the door and drove way in his black Mercedes, leaving Jason alone in the parking lot. The younger journalist sighed again and went back to his Mustang, throwing his notepad, recorder, and pens onto the floor of his car in disgust.


	4. Resolve

**AN: Alright, finally got one more chapter in! My hope was to get this in before Christmas, but I've been busy with activities and work. So I had to take some more time then I thought.  
**

**Also, Chapter 2 was altered to help fix some of the plot holes that I accidentally wrote in when I first began writing this. Hopefully they're fixed with those edits.  
**

**Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks again for the support and happy holidays and a happy new year to all of you!**

**-Symbiotic**

* * *

Chapter 4-Resolve

* * *

_Mount Olympus  
_

Hera held the tablet in her hands throughout the whole press conference. She watched intently as her brother and husband was espoused as great by the executives of the Yankees and listened even more intently at each question that was asked by the reporters in the room. She held onto their words tightly with her attention, focusing on them as if she was holding onto Mount Olympus with her bare hands. The other gods looked on at Hera as she watched the press conference, glancing at the screen themselves to see what their king was being asked by the reporters. Hermes was the only one who did not pay much attention to the press conference. He had personally gone through many of these already with Zeus when his father had chosen to become an athlete, and cared little for the gossip tabloid questions being asked. Instead, he focused on his stepmother and queen, waiting to hear some kind of reaction out of her.

"Mother," Hermes said. He hovered around his mother in the air, standing in front of her while the other gods leaned over her from behind. "Are you alright?"

When the press conference ended, Hera handed the tablet back to Hermes and stood in silence, hanging her head low. "How long?" she asked. Her tone was solemn but quiet, as if she was hoping for an immediate answer. "How long have you known this, Apollo?"

"For about twenty years, my queen," Apollo said.

"And did the others know to?" Hera asked. Her voice remained as solemn and quiet as it was before, barely getting above a whisper. Apollo, afraid of what would happen if he did not be forthcoming with his queen, answered with only one word.

"Yes, they did. Pretty much all of us on Olympus knew but you."

Hera stepped away from the other gods for a moment and began to walk away from the poplar tree. She walked about ten feed away before she stopped herself and started pacing back and forth, holding her hands behind her back and letting her robe drag behind her in the grass. The other gods watched patiently in silence. None of them wanted to speak as Hera paced about, clearly sensing that something was beginning to build up inside of her. For a few minutes Hera paced back and forth, then stopped and hung her head again, taking up the same solemn, near whisper tone she had before. "Why?" she asked.

"Why what, my queen?" Hermes asked. He fluttered around his stepmother's head, slipping the tablet back into his messenger bag. "What is wrong?"

Hera did not say a word at first, only trembled as she clenched her first, gnashed her teeth, and turned to face the other gods. Her breathing was deep and labored, her chest and shoulders rising and falling as if a volcano was ready to explode. The other gods attempted to step back, but before they could, Hera began to shout in the manner that only a queen of the gods could shout, and froze all of them in their tracks.

"Why did none of you tell me this?" she screamed. "Why did all of you choose to hide him from me?"

"Sister, please calm down," Demeter begged. She reached out to touch her sister, but Hera promptly slapped her hands away. "This all may be a bit overwhelming right now but you must be calm. Getting angry won't do anything right now."

"Overwhelming?" Hera said. "Ha! Of course its overwhelming to learn all of this. It's overwhelming to learn that my siblings, children, and even my step children hid something like the identity and whereabouts of my husband from me like a bunch of rats. So no, Demeter, I will not be calm right now, thank you very much."

"Mother," Hermes said. "You must understand for a moment what father had chosen to do and what the stakes were for him when he left you.."

"Don't you 'mother' me, Hermes," Hera ordered. The messenger god stopped hovering and planted himself on the ground. "And what is this about stakes? What is that supposed to mean?"

"He means that we feared for our king's life," Apollo said. "That's what he means."

The words made Hera gasp. She directed herself at Apollo, aiming her gaze at the patron of truth. "Are you saying that I would've tried to hurt Zeus, Apollo?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," Apollo said. He stood up from his spot under the poplar tree. "It never took much for anyone to earn your wrath. Without his immortality and his lightning bolt my father would stand no chance against you. I couldn't risk taking the chance that you might try to kill him and send him to Tartarus."

Hera did issue any retort to Apollo's claim. She stormed over to the younger god while Apollo put up his hands to defend himself. As she moved, the garden began to shake, a sign that Hera's rage was spilling over into her control of the elements, obscuring her control over her powers and making her damage their surroundings as she moved toward her stepson. Apollo stood firm, ready to fight his stepmother and queen. As the two drew closer, both reached out to strike each other with their hands, but were unable to do so. Hades, the lord of the dead, had stepped between them and held both of their hands high up in the air.

"Enough!" he shouted. "I may be king of the underworld and I may care little for what goes on up here on this stupid mountain that Zeus and the rest of you choose to call home, but I am certainly not going to let you two settle this matter in a fashion that involves violence."

"He withheld the truth from me, Hades," Hera stated. "As queen of Olympus, I demand that you let me go so I can punish him!" Hades pulled her arm up higher and tightened his grip. "What is the meaning of this, Hades?"

"He may be overreacting," Hades began. "But to be fair, Hera, he's right. Zeus may be an annoying, fickle, and unreasonable ruler who rests purely on the laurels of some power that he got from some one eyed freaks, but he is our brother and he is Apollo's father. You of all people do not forget that it was Zeus who freed us from the belly of our father and led us to victory over the Titans to avenge the crimes they had committed against us. And you know that it was Zeus who raised Apollo to be the god that he is today. You also assuredly remember that it was Zeus, not anyone else, who was responsible for elevating you to the level of our queen and giving you the political power you wield today. And whether you want to admit it or not, you can be just wrathful and cruel as he is sometimes, Hera. And I was not about to let you hurt him when he was at his most vulnerable."

Hera dangled in Hades grasp silently. She did not utter a word to the lord of the dead, choosing instead to let his words sink into her mind and heart. While she was silent, Apollo took time to thank his uncle.

"Thank you Uncle Hades for seeing things as I saw them," Apollo said. "I hope she understands why my father's identity must be kept from a mad bitch like her." Hades tightened his grasp on Apollo's arm and picked the younger god up to where his obsidian eyes met Apollo's golden ones.

"Just because we agree with each other does not mean that you get to talk to my sister that way," Hades hissed. "If you so much as look at her with even a tiny bit of disrespect, I'll show you a pit of Tartarus full of hundred handers ready to tear you to shreds. You got that, Apollo?"

Apollo nodded quickly in his uncle's grasp, trembling at the promise of punishment that the lord of the undead had for him. Hades dropped both of the gods and stepped back, letting Hera collect herself and stand at her feet. Each of the other gods waited for her to speak.

"I understand," she began. "I understand everything now."

"You do?" Hermes said. "Well that's great because.."

"I understand that all of you think I'm a crazy bitch!" Hera shouted. The other gods stepped back, ready to face the onslaught that their queen might direct at them. But instead of any beatings or physical punishment, Hera stood still. Instead of throwing her fists at any of the gods, she instead opened them and pressed her hands against her face. And instead of shouting and storming toward, Hera began to cry and sit down on the grass.

"I was so wrong about all of you," she sobbed. "I thought we were more then just partners working to oversee the lives of mortals and be there when they need us the most, even when they abandoned us and have left us in the shadow of our former glory. I thought we were all a family and that we didn't keep secrets because we trusted each other. But now I see that I was wrong. All I am to each and every one of you is just some sort of tempest who doesn't even deserve to know what happened to her husband because you think I'm going to hurt him."

"Mother," Hermes said. He reached out to touch her shoulder and she backed away

"None of you even stopped to think how I feel about Zeus," she cried. She pointed a finger at herself through the sobbing, standing up to face the other gods. "You never stopped to wonder why I never tried to smite him. You never even questioned why it might be that whenever he would sleep with another woman that I chose to direct my wrath upon his lovers instead of him?" She continued to cry, the tears streaming down her face and staining her cheeks. "Well I'll tell you why, it's because I _love_ Zeus. He is my husband and my brother and I will never stop loving him. Even when he forsakes me for women other then myself, and even when he forced his way into my life in a manner that I don't think any of you deserve to know!"

The other gods stood in silence, not wanting to speak a word so as to prevent their queen from incurring any wrath upon them. None of them moved to comfort Hera. They remained frozen as their queen continued to sob in her hands, her tears creating dark spots on the ground of her sacred grove. Eventually, when no one chose to say a word, Hera left the other gods in her garden, retreating into her private chamber to be alone and collect herself in the face of the revelation she experienced today.

Hermes stood in silence, his jaw open at what had just occurred before him. He said nothing until Apollo went to speak. "Clearly that did not go the way you planned," the prophetic god spoke.

"No thanks to you," Hermes shot back. He lifted off the ground and shot over to the other god. "Of course you had to be the one to say that we feared her smiting Zeus! Of course you had to be that god, Apollo."

"I was merely telling her the truth, Hermes," Apollo retorted.

"Telling the truth didn't mean making her feel like a bitch!" Hermes hissed. "Did any of you realize I needed her help to get Zeus back into Olympus? I don't have the authority to bestow godhood upon him, no matter how much I may want to just do it myself. I need Hera, and all of you just ruined my chances."

At that moment his cell phone began to ring and he reached into his messenger bag. Zeus was calling him and Hermes reluctantly answered. "Yes, father," Hermes said. He listened closely, keeping the other gods in silence. "You like the new place? Good good." He let his father talk further. "No, she doesn't know. Hey, Apollo, Demeter, and even Hades are here. Would you like to say hello?" Hermes paused. "Too busy? Ah okay. See you tonight then at your new place? Alright, love you dad, goodbye." Hermes hung up his cell phone and turned to the other gods.

"What is father up to?" Apollo asked.

"He just moved into his new apartment in New York," Hermes said. "He wants me to meet him there."

"Are you going now?"

"Yeah," Hermes said. "I need to get out of here and think of a new plan. There has to be some other way to get her on my side, but I need to be alone to think about it."

Hermes began to fly away from Mount Olympus but Hades stopped him, reaching in to grab him by the edge of his robe.

"Hermes," Hades began. "I understand you're upset with what just happened, and I understand what's at stake here. If you want to do this with Hera's help, you need to talk to her by yourself."

"I can't do that," Hermes said. "I'm the one who gave Zeus his cover."

"I don't think she really cares about that anymore," Hades said. "Come back to Olympus after you help Zeus. Talk to her one on one and explain everything. Be honest, be sincere, and leave out no details. If you do that, I'm certain that she'll at least consider helping you."

"You sure about that, Uncle Hades?"

"I'm absolutely certain. Believe me, my sister loves very little more then sincerity."

Hermes nodded his head in agreement, not taking very long to think about what he needed to do. As he flew away from Mount Olympus to help Zeus, Hermes knew what had to be done. When he returned later that day, he would be the one who would explain to Hera why he needed her help to return Zeus to Olympus.

* * *

_New York City, New York  
Upper East Side_

Jason Turner rested his fingers on the keyboard keys, letting his index fingers come to rest on the ledges of the plastic buttons of his Macbook Pro. He tapped the keys gently, pressing them to force them to make a noise but not hard enough to trigger their signal sending mechanism . No letters or symbols appeared on the document when he pressed the keys, just faint "clicks" from the sound of the keys brushing against the metal housing they were placed in. His apartment otherwise remained silent sans a few creaks from the chair he was sitting in and the thump of the pipes overhead.

Jason reached for a bag of sunflower seeds and pulled out a hand full of the roasted seeds. He shoved them in his mouth, placing all but one seed in his left cheek. The one he did not he held on the right side of his face. With years of practice, he had gotten to the point where he could crush a seed's shell casing without crushing the nutritious seed inside of it. Once he crushed the shell in his molars, he snaked the seed out with his tongue, chewed on it with his teeth, and then spit out the shell into an empty water bottle. He had several of these water bottles scattered around his work desk, each one filled with the saliva caked sunflower seed shells.

As he crushed the seeds out of their shells and spit the shells into a water bottle, Jason listened to his recording of the press conference. He continued to drum on the keys, hoping to generate some kind of inspiration from hearing the questions and answers from the Flash Olympios for yet another time, one of what seemed like thousands of times he was listening to the questions while looking up statistics and trying to answer emails from many of his fellow baseball pundits. And yet nothing came to him. He was not sure what to make of anything that was said at the press conference, or how to view Flash's statistics. It was nothing more then a case of writer's block.

He picked up the phone and decided to call Joel. The elder journalist answered after only one ring of his phone.

"What is it, kid?" Joel asked.

"You know what it is," Jason said. He rolled his eyes and spit another sunflower seed shell into the water bottle.

"Can't figure out shit for _Grantland?_"

"Yeah. I can't figure out shit, Joel. It's like nothing is coming to me."

"What are you trying to write exactly, kid?"

"Off season predictions regarding major signings," Jason stated. He spit more sunflower seeds into the plastic bottle and went up to his fridge. "It's supposed to be predicting how many wins some of these major off season acquisitions can provide to their team."

"What are you using that WAR, park factor, batting average mumbo jumbo?" Joel asked.

"Of course, Joel," Jason said. He reached into his fridge and pulled out a can of Monster Energy drink, opening it and taking a long gulp of it. "That's what I do. I was hired to do advanced predictions and analysis". He looked over at his microwave clock and saw it was close to 11:30 at night. He sighed at the time. He had not intended to be up this late to write what he thought would be an easy piece for the _Grantland_ website.

"Advanced analysis doesn't have to be all about the numbers, kid," Joel stated. Jason chugged his Monster energy drink quickly. "There's a lot more to it then just all this statistical analysis insanity."

"But it's cutting edge, Joel."

"Cutting edge, schmutting edge, Kid," Joel stated on the other end. "Kid, I was around when Reggie Jackson came to the Yankees. I covered that whole episode. And let me tell you, it wasn't any metrics that made the Reggie signing special. It was all in the pizzazz factor."

"And his power?" Jason added. "Had to be some of it."

"It was all pizzazz, Kid," Joel said. "He was the straw that stirred the drink. He gave that team the winning edge with a little bit of pop. Okay, maybe a whole lot of pop. But he gave the team a winning edge. That's all you got to think about, how does Flash give them a winning edge?"

"A winning edge," Jason said. Jason let the words sink in for a minute before drinking the last of his energy drink. "I think I get it now. Thanks Joel." He hung up the phone and got back to his laptop. He felt a sense of electricity shooting from his fingers, a desire to transmit knowledge and creativity from his mind upon the keys, and he did just that.

* * *

_Four Days Later  
Mount Olympus_

Hera had not emerged from her chamber since the encounter with the other gods in her garden. She had locked herself inside and refused to come out, choosing instead to sob in a manner so loud and with such emotion that rain was pouring from the heavens down upon Greece and flooding parts of it. Her cries were so loud and so distraught that they reached the bowels of the underworld, being so wretched that even Hades and his decrepit ferryman, Charon, had to cover up their ears to not hear her wailing. The storm she created was so great that Poseidon was forced to do double time to ensure the safety of the sailors, using his own elemental power to mitigate Hera's storm. Under normal circumstances, he could usually match the storms that Zeus caused out of wrath. But he could tell that this storm that Hera created was not created out of wrath, but of a boundless sorrow. And since sorrow knew no bounds, Poseidon was forced to use nearly all of his strength to ensure it did not wipe out every ship roaming the oceans of the world.

Hermes had promised to talk to Hera after he returned from New York City, but he did not return as immediately as he thought he would and many of the other gods believed that he would not be returning anytime soon. Instead, the goddesses all convened to talk discuss how to best talk to Hera. The gathered outside of the main door to Hera's chamber and convened, trying to best plan on who would speak to Hera first and who would say what when what questions were brought up.

"I don't even know if I'm qualified to speak on this matter," Artemis said. She held her bow at her side. "Hera and I, while on amicable terms, don't usually speak unless its important. She usually lets me be and I let her be, so I don't know much of her personal life as of late."

"This is true, Artemis," Hestia said. "But we think that another voice would be helpful. I mean, Gaea knows Demeter has exhausted her welcome with Hera for a time."

"Hestia!" Demeter exclaimed.

"Well it's true," Hestia said. "You were the only goddess to charge into the garden at Hermes suggestion." Demeter folded her arms and furrowed her brow. The agrarian goddess could be overbearing, but not for a lack of caring. "Look, we just need a different approach.."

"Should I find Hera a lover of her own?" Aphrodite suggested. She fiddled with her blonde hair. "I mean I know many a man who would love to be with Hera. She fits the perfect bill of a cougar.."

"Are you insane?" Athena hissed. "We're trying to help her, not get her a sex partner!"

"Well shoot," Aphrodite said. "I was just trying to help, Athena."

"You're right," Athena sighed. "I'm sorry, I know you want to help Aphrodite, but that is not the kind of way Hera should be helped."

"Well what are we going to do?" Aphrodite asked. "I haven't been able to get my beauty sleep in days with all that wailing."

"I'll take care of it," a male voice said. The goddess turned around to find Hermes fluttering down the hall toward Hera's chamber, glancing up at the walls while he sent some text messages on his phone. When he took his place next to the goddesses, he slipped his phone in his chamber. "Sorry I'm late, ladies. There was some turbulence on the way home."

"No doubt caused by our queen," Persephone stated.

"Turbulence shouldn't be enough to make you take four day to return, Hermes," Hestia said. "What really.."

"Okay, okay," Hermes said. "It was your brother, alright, Aunt Hestia? He insisted that we shop somewhere other then Ikea for his apartment furnishings."

"Okay.." Hestia said slowly. She did not know if she should believe her nephew or not. Hermes spoke up too quickly for her to say anything else about the matter.

"How long has she been in there?" Hermes asked.

"Four days and counting," Athena said. "It doesn't look good."

"If she keeps this up things could get ugly," Artemis said. "Poseidon is working double time to make sure the earth isn't flooded by her right now."

"Well isn't that nice of him," Hermes said sarcastically.

"What could have possibly caused her to act like this, Hermes?" Artemis. asked. "Hera never acts like this when she cries."

"Why don't you ask your golden boy of a brother sometime, Artemis," Hermes said. He grimaced at the thought of what had happened earlier that week and did not want to give Artemis the details. "That's all I have to say about that." Hermes sighed and went to open the door, only to be stopped by Hestia and Demeter. "Please let me go in there."

"We can't let you do this alone, Hermes," Hestia said. "She is our sister as much as she is your stepmother."

"No," Hermes said. He turned to face the goddesses, making sure to direct his attention at each one of them. "You don't understand. I created this charade for Zeus to live under. I am the one who has to tell her what is going on. As much as each of you know of the cover up, none of you can possibly explain to Hera what needs to be done here."

"If that is true, Hermes, then I suppose it is best up to you to do this," Athena said. "But we will stand by. Won't we, my sisters, my aunts?"

"Of course," Hestia said. "We'll all be here if you need us."

Hermes smiled at his aunts and the other goddesses and nodded in affirmation, then turned to the large oak doors that closed off Hera and Zeus's chamber. With a hefty swallow in this throat and a sweaty grasp of the handles, Hermes cracked open the doors to the chamber and slipped inside. Once in, he shut the door ever so slightly, attempting to be quiet enough to sneak in without disturbing Hera. For Hermes, this was normally easy enough. Being the patron of thieves meant he knew a few things regarding stealthy entrances, and this was no exception. What he feared was telling Hera the truth. Being the god of thieves, Hermes was far more willing to lie to Hera then he was to tell her the truth. But as Uncle Hades had explained to him, only hearing the truth directly from him would get Hera to stop crying. Hermes inhaled heavily and began to hover into the room, exhaling as he flew along. He feared for every bone in his immortal being as he went to tell her the truth, even when he knew it was the right thing to do.


	5. Deliberate

**AN: Well this has been a quick turnaround!**

**Some events in my life have forced me to use my writing as a method for escapism, so I feel a bit more inspired then I was a few days ago. So I felt like putting this chapter out a bit faster then normal.**

**Reviews and criticism are always appreciated. Thanks again for the support and I hope you enjoy it!**

**-Symbiotic**

* * *

Chapter 5-Deliberate

* * *

Zeus and Hera's private chamber was the most exquisite of rooms in a finely decorated Mount Olympus. They had constantly had nothing but the best furniture and the best designs that only befit the king and queen of the gods. The room had been decorated with a mix of marble columns and signs of Zeus's presence, eagle busts and thunderbolts on the marble molding of the room. Hera made her presence felt with a mix of red and purple drapes, as well as signs of her ubiquitous peacock patterns on the rugs and couch, which were all green with shades of blue switched between them. The room was lit at night by a few candles, but was mostly lit by the starlight and sun in the sky via the massive skylights and windows that dotted the room. And at the edge of this room was Hermes, hovering over the floor while Hera continued to sob.

He looked to the center of the chamber and saw his queen lying on her bed at the center of the candlelit chamber. Her robe and sheets were stained with the tears pouring from her eyes like the rivers that surrounded the earth. Her face was turned into one of the many pillows on her golden bed, her sobs hardly muffled by the linens that she pressed herself into. Outside of the room he could hear the gentle cadence of rain tapping on the windows of her chamber, a sign that her emotions spilled into her control over the elements. The whole sight made Hermes sigh again as he fluttered over to his stepmother. He had seen her upset many times yet he seldom saw her like this. He knew much of her state was the result of his actions.

"Mother," Hermes said. He fluttered over to her bedside and knelt on one knee. Hera continued to sob into her sheets, her face turned away from Hermes. "Mother, I wish to speak to you for a moment."

"No," Hera sniffled. She continued to face away from Hermes in her cries, but more then recognized his youthful voice. She raised her right hand and swatted the air. "Please, Hermes, just go away." She rested her hand on the bed again and began to sob.

"We must talk, Mother," Hermes said. He fluttered over to the other side of the bed, trying to get Hera to look at him. She turned her body in the opposite direction. "Please, hear me out. I must tell you that.."

"That I'm a bitch," Hera hissed. The venom in her words stung Hermes, even when it was watered down by her sobbing. "Is that what you are here to do, Hermes?" She still refused to give him her full attention and continued to cry into the sheets.

"No, Mother. And I'm sorry you feel that way right now." Hermes fluttered down onto the bed and touched his mother on the shoulder. He sat there in silence for a few moments, gently rubbing Hera's back and humming a lullaby that she used to sing for him when he was young. As he hummed it she still sobbed, but the tears fell less and less. "I'm sorry for everything that has happened earlier, Mother. I did not wish to humiliate you in such a manner in front of our family. I would never want to intentionally humiliate you."

"I know," Hera whispered. She sat up and let Hermes sit next to her, the two gods wrapping an arm around each others shoulders. Hera sniffled as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. Hermes reached into his messenger bag and gave her a tissue, which she took and ran against her face to stop the tears and blow her nose. "I'm such a fucking mess."

"You are perhaps the most majestic mess that ever graced Olympus then," Hermes said.

Hera smirked and sniffled again. "Please don't tell me you learned that line from Zeus."

"Would it help me if I told you I did?" Hermes said. He had a wry smile on his face that made Hera giggle and lay back on her bed. Hermes sat at the edge of it, keeping his mother in his field of peripheral vision but choosing not to look at her. "Mother, what the other gods said about why they hid Zeus's whereabouts from you is not what Zeus himself intended."

"Then why?" Hera burst out. She sat up to meet Hermes gaze with her own, one hand clutching her golden sheets. "What was it then, Hermes? What was the reason that Zeus was hidden from me like our mother hid him from our father?"

"Mother," Hermes began. "When Zeus and you had that fight where you claimed he found a more devoted wife then yourself, he wanted to prove you right. Mother, you know that lord Zeus can be as blind as a bat sometimes when his pride gets in his way, and he was desperate to show you that he could find someone better then you. He wanted to prove that it was his heroism, his strength, and looks alone could guarantee that he would find a wife better and more devoted then you, in his mind of course."

"So he didn't even care about how I felt," Hera said. She felt the tears build up in her eyes and she moved her auburn hair out of her face. "Of course, just like all the other times."

"Mother, please don't cry," Hermes said. He reached into his bag and gave her another tissue, which she accepted. "You didn't let me explain what happened to Zeus."

Hera wiped the tears from her eyes. "Fair enough," she said. "Continue then, Hermes."

"As hard as lord Zeus tried, Mother, and believe me he did, he never found another woman more devoted to you then him. He found some women who had amazing looks, great amounts of wealth, great amounts of intellect, and even amazing sexual prowess that would make you think that Aphrodite herself bestowed it upon these women. But he never found any of them to be truly devoted to him. A lot of them did this thing with Zeus they call the 'One Night Stand', where apparently you have sex with a man that you meet on the same night."

"That sounds abhorrent," Hera said. Hermes could hear her try to find some kind of humor in what she was explaining but could tell she did not find it funny. "So Zeus had a lot of these 'one nights stands'?"

"He had too many for me to count," Hermes said. "Zeus was right that even as a mortal he could still be attractive to any woman."

"Great," Hera grumbled. She turned away from Hermes. "Just what I wanted to know, that my husband is still out sleeping with mortal women. Is that all you have to tell me, Hermes?"

"Mother, Zeus did not find any happiness with any of these women."

When Hermes spoke those words, Hera got up off her bed and walked toward one of the massive windows lining her chamber. She looked out at the world on the night sky, seeing much of the land that she presided over in both Greece and other parts of the world flooded slightly. Patches of forest that had towered over the land for centuries were uprooted, giant oak trees resting on their sides after they had been uprooted by the wind and the flooding that Hera had caused. The queen of the gods held onto one of the curtains gently as she looked out the window. Hermes fluttered over to her side and rested on the marble floor next to her, holding his hands behind his back as he looked out the window.

"Father has not found happiness with one woman in the mortal world since you caused the accident that killed that olive grower in Thessaly," Hermes said. He looked out at the world with his stepmother and continued to speak. "Sure, he might have found sexual satisfaction, but the women he met in the mortal world were far more trouble then he found them to be worth. Many tried to steal from him, taking the money he had earned, and many more simply wanted the glory of saying that Flash Olympios was their consort at one point. They dragged him along with less dignity then Sisyphus pushes boulders in Tartarus."

"Then why did he not return to Olympus?" Hera asked. She held onto the curtain tightly, waiting for the moment that Hermes would tell her what she believed was the truth about Zeus's exploits in the mortal world.

"There are two reasons for this," Hermes stated. "The first was the result of my talents as his agent. You see, when Zeus decided to take up the mantle of a professional athlete in the mortal world, he was first conscripted, or 'drafted' as they say in the mortal world of baseball, by an organization, or 'ball club' as the mortals say, called the Padres, who played in a city called San Diego. Zeus displayed immense talent for the Padres, but a combination of his philandering and the fact that the Padres were not a very good team meant that he was traded to another city, one they call Boston, to play for a 'ball club' called the Red Sox."

"And what happened in Boston with these Red Sox?" Hera asked.

"Well," Hermes began. "While he may not have found a mortal lover who was devoted to him, Zeus did find a whole city was devoted to him. I don't think father felt more like a god in almost 1000 years then he did during his time in Boston. They treated him like the king that he is. They paid him lavishly, they named streets after him, they even named restaurants after him. He was the deity of deities in that city when he was there for a time. And I made sure of it, as I got Zeus a massive contract that indentured him to the Red Sox for ten years." Hermes paused and continued to look out at the world. "But then.."

"But then what, Hermes?" Hera questioned.

"The denizens of Boston withdrew their love and trust for Zeus," Hermes explained. "You see, while Zeus was very dominant in the sport of baseball, he seemed to be fated with an inability to achieve the highest levels of glory a city's team can achieve, a title the mortals call the 'World Series Championship'. Winning it guarantees you a certain immortality in the annals of baseball's history. At first the citizens of Boston did not mind it very much, but eventually, as the failures grew and grew, they became anxious and tiresome toward Zeus. It didn't help that Zeus's mortal body began to break down as the denizens of Boston lost patience with him. Eventually, it all came to a head last year, in the final year of his contract. Zeus could not bring the Red Sox into what they call the 'playoffs', a tournament where the best of the best teams from the season play against each other to decide a champion. When Zeus could not make bring the Red Sox to the playoffs the team decided to cut ties with him."

Hera continued to look out at the world that she had flooded with her sorrow. The waters that had submerged parts of the earth laid still. Mortals tried to wade through the knee high morass, some even taking to rowing small boats across the streets they walked across daily. The queen of the gods clutched the curtain still. Hermes began to flutter off the marble floor.

"You answered half of my question," Hera stated. "What is the other reason Zeus has not returned to Olympus, Hermes?"

Hermes fluttered up near Hera's face, watching his queen's steely, gem like eyes closely. "The other reason, Queen Hera, as to why Lord Zeus has not returned to Olympus has to do with his status as a mortal," Hermes said. "You see, Zeus's body, while able to still live in the mortal world for many more years, is fading in its usefulness as a tool by which Zeus can earn money and prestige in the mortal world. Even with me bestowing any favor upon him, Zeus cannot play this game he has excelled at for so many years much longer." He looked back out at the world before continuing to speak. "It is my belief that Zeus badly wants to return to Mount Olympus.."

"And he hasn't already because.." Hera interrupted. She stopped herself from speaking any further, holding her hand over her mouth and tugging on the curtain, clutching it tightly in her hands. Hermes fluttered around his stepmother and watched her closely. Unlike when he talked to Zeus and needed to remind him of the rules, Hermes knew that Hera remembered them, and needed to process her thoughts.

"Mother, I'm sure you realize that I cannot bestow godhood upon Zeus," Hermes said. Hera clutched the curtain harder. "It is up to the ruling god of Olympus to make such a judgment. And you, Queen Hera," he said, making sure to emphasize the importance of what he was explaining by calling his stepmother by her formal name. "Are the ruling god of Olympus in Zeus's absence."

Hera felt her whole heart sink into her feet. Her stomach felt like a void that was filled with apprehension and chaos, a consuming nothingness that made her feel terrified in her immortal mind. She stepped away from the window and walked back to her bed, clutching the sheets of her bed yet remaining standing up, hunched over her bed as she struggled to comprehend what was both being asked of her and the reasons as to why she did not know of her husband's whereabouts for so long.

"He wanted to remain hidden because he knew he would be judged," Hera muttered out loud. "Is that why he hid himself, Hermes?"

"Precisely, Mother," Hermes said. He fluttered over to his mother's side. "Zeus knows that trials and tribulations will await him this upcoming season. I got him a contract with another ball club called the New York Yankees. He will make little money and his personal life is restricted per terms of the contract. The team itself is a bit of what the mortals call a 'wild card'. They could be terrible, but I also believe they could be very good with the help of someone like Zeus at their side. That also does not change the fact that New York City, his new residence for the next year or so, will be more treacherous then Boston if he makes it that way. However, if he succeeds, Zeus will be remembered and deified even more greatly then he was in Boston. But I do no think Zeus expected to be judged by you. I think he believes if he simply wins the world series with the Yankees, he will be able to come home. But you and I know that is not the case."

"Athletics is hardly a reason to make someone a god, Hermes," Hera said. "If he is a hero in the arena he might be best fit for the Elysian Fields then a place upon Olympus."

"You know that Hades would not put him there after the drawing of lots that left Zeus dominating the world and him to rule over the dead," Hermes reminded. "Zeus needs to return to Olympus. He wants to. He wants to so badly that he would let me restrict his personal life to fit your demands." He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out the scroll containing Zeus's contract, handing it to his mother for her to look at and examine.

"No sexual intercourse, no dating, partying only at your permission, intense off season training regimen," Hera read out loud. "Hermes, did you write this contract?"

"I wrote in all the personal life tenets," Hermes said. "The rest of it was all written by the Yankees. Including the 'no facial hair' bit." Hera chuckled lightly at the thought of Zeus not having a beard. "I knew if I didn't write it in such a manner that he'd had no hope of returning to Olympus. He has to earn your favor again somehow."

"Are you saying that I hate Zeus?" Hermes was taken back by this notion, but thankfully he had a response that would ensure his stepmother both did not hurt him but continued to listen to him.

"Not for a moment, Mother," Hermes said. He set himself on the ground again and stood next to his mother. "I know that even you, as much as you love Zeus, and I know your love for Zeus is eternal, would not bestow godhood upon him without him earning your favor. As patroness of women and marriage, I know you believe that husbands should remain loyal to their women and place them at the center of their world over anything else."

"So what are you asking of me, Hermes?" Hera asked. She sat back on her bed, her stepson hovering right in her face. "Are you asking me to just restore his godhood after he's been hiding from me for so long in the mortal world for so long?" She clenched the sheets, feeling anxious about what was transpiring.

"No," Hermes said. "I'm not asking you to do that." He hovered to her side and sat next to her. "Mother, what I'm asking of you is to be the judge of Zeus. Like I said, only you can decide if Zeus is worthy to return to his place upon the throne of Mount Olympus. It is your judgement and your judgement to make alone."

"How will I do that?" Hera asked. "Zeus has been hidden from me for so long I hardly know what to judge him on."

"That's why I need you to enter the mortal world for a period of time, my mother," he said. "From the end of next month till the time when Persephone makes her preparations to spend time with Hades in the underworld, go to the mortal world and watch Zeus. Judge him in his labors to see if he is worthy of being a god."

Hera stood up and walked toward the window again in her chamber. She rested her body against one of the columns in the room, standing up but resting her shoulders low and holding her head up against the column to her side. Her arms were crossed and her bosom moved up and down slowly in deep, well paced, but peaceful breathes. By the look on her face Hermes could tell that Hera was thinking closely what he had told her. As he watched her think, he noticed the clouds out the window begin to dissipate, revealing a starry night sky that seemed to get brighten with each passing moment that Hera leaned against the column.

"I need time to contemplate on this matter, Hermes," Hera said. "I'd like to have some time alone."

"Of course, Mother." Hermes went to kneel in respect. He went to leave with a nervous feeling in his stomach, unsure of what Hera's choice would be. But as he went to leave, Hera's stopped him by holding her hand out.

"Before you go, Hermes," Hera began. "Have Aphrodite find me an outfit that would make me blend into this city of New York."

Hermes felt the fear in chest become replaced with a sense of joy, and he fluttered off the ground and right into his mother's face. "You mean that you're.."

"Yes, Hermes," Hera said with a smile. She turned away from her stepson and continued to look out at the world. "Now, make sure that I have a place to stay in this city and a means to look after Zeus."

"Yes, Mother," Hermes said. He smiled greatly and knelt in the air, hovering below her chin with his sandals. "Oh and about those outfits.."

"Yes, about those. Make sure Aphrodite doesn't buy clothes that make me look like a prostitute," Hera demanded.

"Of course, Mother," Hermes said. He began to fly toward the toward the door, leaving Hera leaning up against the column to look out at the world below with her arms crossed. "Thank you, Mother. You are truly a fair and just queen of Olympus."

"You're welcome, Hermes," Hera said. She moved her auburn hair out of her face and stood against the column, leaning against it with her breasts heaving up and down gently while she watched the world below. As he opened the oak doors that closed off her chamber to the rest of Olympus's main hall, he watched Hera's arms unfold and rest at her side, her stoic gaze replaced by a light smile that Hermes had not seen his stepmother have in quite some time.

* * *

_Three weeks later  
Miami, Florida_

Before spring training began Zeus had elected to return to Miami to continue his off season training regimen. He had chosen to do this for a few simple reasons. Miami was warm throughout the year, favorable for an athlete looking to train in a sport that primarily took place in the warmer months of the year like baseball did. Being in a warmer climate also meant that he could train for longer in the day and not have to worry about the weather when he trained, something Zeus grew to like very much about living in Florida. Zeus also enjoyed training for its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, a body of water that he had grown accustomed to swimming in as a way to improve his endurance for the coming season and to cool off in after running on the beach. And most importantly to a god like Zeus was the warmth and picture-esque Florida coastline allowed Zeus to exercise not only his muscles, heart, and lungs, but the voyeurism fetish that had gotten him into such trouble with Hera when he lived on Mount Olympus.

Zeus paddled in from the Atlantic Ocean and shook himself when he stepped out of its waters onto the stretch of beach where he had made his camp for the day. At the site which he had chosen he had his personal assistants erect a beach tent for the girls he had brought with him and a small bar where his personal cooks and dieticians made him his meals for the day. He strolled up to the bar and grabbed himself a grilled chicken sandwich with mozarella cheese and peppers along with a kale based protein shake that his dietician had made for him. He chomped on the sandwich with large bites and chugged the kale shake quickly, throwing the glass behind his back with such force that the dietician who made the shake was forced to dodge it like a stag would dodge one of Artemis's silver arrows. Zeus then opened the white curtain door to the tent he had set up and stepped inside, taking his place on a couch he had set up in the tent in between two women.

"Amanda! Brooke!" Zeus exclaimed. He wrapped his arms around the two women. "Are you ladies having a good time or what?"

"Of course, Flash," Amanda said. The blonde woman in a white sundress did not take her head up from the book she was reading, using an unamused tone that hinted boredom. "Having an absolute ball."

Zeus furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do I sense some sarcasm in the air?"

"Flash, we've been watching you work out now on the beach for seven hours," Brooke whined. The brunette in a red bikini lying on the right arm of the sofa in the tent crawled over to Zeus and cupped his face with her hand, her red fingernails running over Zeus's ocean drenched chest. "We're bored.."

"Bored?" Zeus said. He looked into her hazel eyes and began to play with her brown hair while caressing his right hand over her back and ass. "Well, I suppose I haven't dedicated enough time to play with you ladies. But I've had a long day full of hard work."

Amanda giggled and wrapped her arm around Zeus, reaching down for his swim trunks and feeling his manhood through the wet shorts. "Surely, Flash, you have a little bit of energy to take care of us now. Come on now." She reached up and kissed him on the lips passionately. "Give us a good workout."

Flash felt his down to the small of Amanda's back as she tugged on the hem of his swim trunks. While his hand wandered toward Amanda's ass, his lips again met with Brooke's and his fingers gently ran through her chestnut colored locks. As he nibbled on her lip to gain access to her mouth with his tongue, Amanda undid the laces holding up his swim drunks to slide her hand inside. She grabbed Zeus's shaft, stroking it slowly while Brooke's tongue became tied up in the king of the god's own. As their tongues became tangled, Zeus undid the string on Brooke's bikini top, watching the red bathing suit fall onto the sand below and giving him free access to her breasts.

"Flash, what are you doing?!" a male voice shouted. Zeus's eyes opened up to see Hermes, dressed in a sport coat, tie, and black business casual shoes with a black suitcase and his Black and Red Detroit Red Wings cap on his head, standing in the doorway of the tent.

"Harry!" Zeus exclaimed. "I had no idea you were showing up to check in on my training."

"I did, Flash," Hermes said. "I called you three times and you didn't answer! Come on, we have to go."

Zeus quickly scrambled to pull up his swim trunks while Brooke scrambled to put her bikini top back on. Amanda sat on the couch in the tent with an irritated and dumbfounded look on her face. "Where are you going, Flash?"

"I'm sorry, babe," Flash said. He turned back to kiss her, but she swatted him away. "Oh come on it's not like.."

"Just get the fuck out of here, Flash," Brooke ordered. "We've had enough of you."

Zeus groaned and threw on his sandals and a t shirt and chased after Hermes. The messenger god was walking along toward the parking lot of the beach, the sun starting to set in over the Biscayne Bay and only stopped when he heard Zeus's heavy footed running get closer and closer to him until Zeus as standing at his feet. Hermes folded his arms and furrowed his brow, making his irritation with Zeus's behavior well known to the older but very mortal king of Olympus.

"What the fuck was that about, Hermes?" Zeus asked. "I was in the middle of.." Before he could finish, Hermes tossed the contract with the Yankees in Zeus's face.

"Can you read, Father?" Hermes asked. "Because if you can, you should've known that your contract explicitly states that you cannot have any girlfriends, any flings, any romance, anything that even involves girls this season!"

"Oh come on, Hermes," Zeus said. He scanned the contract quickly with his eyes and then tossed it back at Hermes, which the messenger god caught with his hands. "You saw those ladies, they were pretty banging, you gotta agree, right?"

"That's not the point, Father," Hermes growled. "The point is I have to get you back into Olympus and I can't do that if you're going to go around having sex with every human being that has a vagina!"

"Well I certainly wasn't going to do that, Hermes. I have standards."

"Really? Because you sure don't exercise them very much."

Zeus shook his head and gnashed his teeth as he followed Hermes but remained silent. He knew that whatever words he said could not even come close to the power that Hermes wielded, even though such power was weak compared to the power that the other gods on Olympus wielded. The two gods walked toward the beach, near where Zeus had parked his Mercedes Benz G63 SUV that he had driven to the beach. The two walked in silence until they reached the parking lot.

"Hermes, you can't seriously expect me to.." Zeus began.

"Father," Hermes interrupted. "Do you want to reign over Olympus again or not?"

"Well yes, yes I do," Zeus said.

"Then you'll lay off the women for seven and a half months, okay?" Hermes ordered. "Do you understand, Father? No women, no girlfriends, no sex partners, nothing of that sort for seven and a half months, okay?"

Zeus sighed and rolled his eyes. The sun continued to set over Biscayne Bay. "Fine, you have it your way, Hermes. No women for me. I promise."

"Good,"Hermes said with a smile. He threw Zeus his suitcase and the older god opened it up to find three stacks of pornography magazines, a razor, and a bottle of Barbasol shaving cream. Zeus opened up one of the magazines and flipped through it slowly.

"What's this for?" Zeus asked. He flipped through the pages, trying to imagine being aroused by any of the images in the magazine.

"That'll keep you away from women and if need be, I can fill your TV with all the adult movie channels you want," Hermes said. Zeus shrugged his shoulders and then took out the Barbasol shaving cream and the razor.

"And what is this for?" Zeus asked.

"Oh yeah," Hermes said. "I forgot to mention that the Yankees have a strict male grooming policy. You have to shave your goatee."

Zeus dropped the razor and shaving cream and reached in to grab Hermes by the shoulders. The messenger god dodged Zeus's movements easily with his divine speed and agility. The two men bolted around the parking back and forth between cars. Zeus unable to catch Hermes and eventually gave up, finding himself panting harder and more out of breath then he had found himself with any workout that he had done that day. He rested his hands on his knees and bent over to pant, panting harder then any dog could have panted in the Miami afternoon.


	6. Gifts

**AN: My desire to continue this has not waned in the least! **

**As you can see, I added a hastily made cover image to the story. It's really only a placeholder until I can get a more appropriate one, but it does shed a little bit of light of how I envision Zeus looking in the mortal world as a pitcher for the New York Yankees. The pitcher in the photo, Randy Johnson, is one with whom I plan on basing Zeus's own personal pitching style off of, and I highly suggest you watch any youtube clips of Randy at work if you want to get an idea of how Zeus pitches. **

**Again, all criticism and advice is appreciated. Thanks for the support!**

**-Symbiotic**

* * *

Chapter 6-Gifts

* * *

_Two weeks Later  
Mount Olympus  
_  
Mount Olympus beamed in the light of revelry and merriment that few had ever seen. The pearl marble halls of Olympus shined brighter then they had shined in several years, glimmering as the gods and goddesses socialized and danced in a festival that had not graced their palace in several hundred years. Their nymphs of most of the gods pranced about the hallways in joy, bouncing along the marble halls and twirling their bodies in dances as the satyrs and nymphs of Apollo played medleys. The songs of Apollo and his band echoed brilliantly throughout the entire palace atop Mount Olympus. The wine of Dionysus flowed endlessly from the casks which the young god of revels had brought to his home, having enough to fill everyone's belly. It was a celebration fitting only of a monumental occasion. That occasion was none other then Hera's decree that she would be heading to the mortal world to judge Zeus.

But while the other gods reveled and danced with the nymphs and their own divine brethren, Hera was nowhere to be found. She remained in her chamber with Aphrodite and several of Aphrodite's nymph attendants. She had decided to not come out until she could figure out what to wear, and Aphrodite was trying to help her pick an outfit for the party. The love goddess was more than happy to help her queen, but Hera was less then thrilled with both her own inability to pick an outfit and Aphrodite's desire to give her an outfit that was only sexually attractive. She had gone back and forth with Aphrodite and her nymphs on several outfits, but ultimately she decided to wear one of her favorite but seldom used dresses. It was a white dress with golden stitching and lace, complete with a purple sash and her favorite golden sandals. Hera looked at herself in the mirror while Aphrodite's nymphs tied her hair and put on her jewelry, fitting her fingers, ears, and neck with the most brilliant of golden and gem laden pieces of jewelry.

"I say, Queen Hera," Aphrodite said. "I don't think I've ever seen you so beautiful."

Hera rolled her eyes but gave a small smile to the love goddess. "Well you know me, Aphrodite," Hera said. "I am the fairest of them all."

Aphrodite giggled walked toward Hera with her hands behind her back. The queen of the gods glanced through the mirror at the love goddess, unsure of what Aphrodite was holding in her hands. "Close your eyes for a moment, Queen Hera." Hera exhaled and closed her eyes for the love goddess, feeling the nymphs in Aphrodite's attendance step aside while something was placed upon her head. "Okay. Open them now."

Hera opened her eyes to see herself wearing a piece of her wardrobe that she had not wore in years. It was a golden crown that was given to her by Zeus on her wedding night, a shiny metallic piece that sat upon her head. It was bordered with diamonds across the top and in the center of the crown was a massive sapphire surrounded by several small emeralds. Hera let out an excited gasp and placed her hand over her mouth, her chest filled with a sense of awe at the beauty that she was viewing in her mirror. The nymphs gathered around her issued a chorus of gasps and awes, feeling the same sense of amazement that the queen of the gods felt when she looked in the mirror.

"Wow," Hera said. She looked at herself in the mirror further and posed, marveling at how beautiful the crown looked on her head. "This is amazing."

"I had Hephaestus redo it for you," Aphrodite said. "I don't think I've seen that crown shine so brightly in 2000 years."

"If only Zeus could see it," Hermes said. The messenger god poked his head through the oak doors of Hera's chamber and fluttered inside, taking his place next to the love goddess and her nymphs. "He would have a hard time resisting such beauty, Mother."

"Thank you, Hermes," Hera said. She straightened the crown on her forehead and inhaled deeply, letting out a long breathe before turning to face the messenger god. "Are the others enjoying themselves?"

"Yes, but they request your presence in the revelry," Hermes said. "You should join us."

"And I shall," Hera said. She waved her hand and motioned toward the doors of her chamber. "Come now, lets join our fellow Olympians and be merry."

Hermes, Aphrodite, and Aphrodite's nymphs opened the oak doors for Hera and followed her out through Olympus's halls. Aphrodite's nymphs fawned at their queen as she walked toward the main hall of Olympus where Hestia had set up the festivities. Hermes fluttered close behind his stepmother, smiling as he saw Hera walk with a gait and manner that indicated not only a mighty and powerful god, but a god whom was content and resolute for the first time in many years. At his side walked Aphrodite, who always remained beautiful and sexually attractive as the goddess of love no matter what the moment was. Aphrodite's pink and gold dress that revealed all but the nipples of her perfect breasts and all but the creases of her womanhood made the messenger god aroused, but it also made him chuckle. He knew that even in the most formal but joyous of occasions that the goddess of love and wanton lust would not pass up an opportunity to flaunt her beauty.

The three gods stepped into the main hall where the other gods drank wine and held discourse with one another about the matters of the world. They scattered themselves across the room in small pockets of conversation, each with a different topic, but that all stopped when Hermes, Aphrodite, Aphrodite's nymphs, and Hera stepped into the room. Immediately after the queen of the gods set foot into the room, each of the gods stood up and looked over in her direction in silence. The goddesses were overcome with awe at the beauty of their queen while the male gods, particularly Hera's brothers, Poseidon and Hades, smiled at the sight of their sister and queen in such a happy but beautiful and dignified appearance. Like the goddesses and their nymphs, they to stood in silence until Hera stood at the center of the room.

"My fellow Olympians," Hera said. She looked around the room at each of the gods and their nymph attendants. The other gods held their tongues. "Why do you stand in silence?"

Poseidon was the first to speak, tapping his trident on the marble floor of Olympus and kneeling onto one knee with his head bowed. "My queen," he said. "We are all just so overcome by your majesty." The other gods knelt and bowed their heads in respect. "We have not seen you in such a manner in twenty years."

"I know, Poseidon," Hera stated. She looked in silence at the other gods kneeling before. "As all of you know, it has been brought to attention that a certain Olympian, a being who is my brother, my king and.." Hera paused for a brief moment, making Hermes look up at her to wonder when she would speak. "And my husband," she continued. "This relative of ours seeks to return to Mount Olympus."

The other gods remained in silence, each on one knee with their heads bowed in respect, encircling Hera. The queen of the gods moved in this circle as she spoke. "As all of you know, by the rules and laws written in the wake of the Titanomachy, for a mortal such as Zeus to return to Olympus, he or she must earn the favor of the ruler of Olympus. In his absence, I have ruled over Olympus, and I have made many judgments after taking up Zeus's mantle of the patroness of justice and ruler of each and every one of you." She paused again for a brief moment. "But I am here to tell you that I am going to make my last judgment starting tomorrow. And this judgment will be whether or not Zeus's returns to Olympus."

Hera paused again before continuing to speak. The other gods continue to hold their head bowed and kneel on one knee. "In Zeus's absence, as I have become in charge of the dispensing of justice and assuming rule over Olympus, I have often deliberated with each and every one of you in regard to the judgments that I must make; I believe strongly that such judgments should not be made by one being alone. But this judgment is different. This judgment is one I, as queen of Olympus, must make by myself, and by myself alone. I ask all of you now to be please, despite your feelings and concerns toward Zeus, to please let me decide this matter by myself and without any of your individual inputs. Fellow Olympians, will you hear my request?"

"Yes, Queen Hera," each of the gods spoke in unison.

"And shall you grant my request to judge Zeus alone and accept my judgment of Zeus to be absolute in its decree?" Hera questioned.

"Yes, Queen Hera," the gods again chimed in chorus. "We shall grant you your request and accept your judgment as absolute in its decree."

"All of you, rise," Hera ordered. The gods each stood up at Hera's request, continuing to form a circle around their queen. "Poseidon, Hestia, Athena, come forth."

Hera's sibling and stepdaughter stepped forward into the circle and stood with their hands at their side. "As all of you know," Hera spoke to the gods. "To judge Zeus, I must travel to the world of the mortals. And while in the mortal world I, like Zeus, will forsake my powers and will not use them in my judgment." She turned her attention to her two siblings standing next to her in the circle "Hestia, Poseidon, come stand before me."

The god of the sea and Hera's oldest sister stepped forward and faced their queen. "Brother Poseidon, master of the sea, and sister Hestia, lady of the flame, each of you give me one of your hands," Hera ordered. Hestia held out her left hand while Poseidon held out his right. Hera took each hand and began to focus her power, feeling energy flow from her body into the bodies of her divine siblings. "As of this moment, each of you possess the control over elements and nature that I both possessed and what was bestowed with by Zeus himself. Do you accept these powers, Hestia and Poseidon?"

"Yes, Queen Hera," Poseidon and Hestia stated in unison. Each god could feel Hera's energy going through them and breathed in a rhythmic fashion, taking in the glorious energy passing through them in a meditative state.

"Do you promise to never use them out of spite or to harm your fellow Olympians?" Hera asked.

"Yes, Queen Hera," the two gods spoke in unison.

"Good," Hera said. She let out out a heavy sigh and let go of Hestia and Poseidon's hands. "My faith rests in both of you to guard the gifts I have bestowed upon you with every ounce of your being."

"We shall not fail you, my sister," Hestia said. Poseidon nodded in affirmation and received a nod from Hera in return. The two siblings of Olympus's queen then watched her turn toward Athena and place her hands on the younger goddess.

"Athena," Hera began. "You are a most wise and righteous goddess. And you have grown up through the ages to become my closest confidant and attendant. I have watched you blossom from a patroness of war and guardian of heroes to the patroness of democracy and guardian of freedom all over the world." She placed her hands on Athena's shoulders. "It is for those reasons that I wish to name you, in my absence, as the reigning sovereign of Olympus proper and the patroness of justice."

Athena gasped and felt herself overcome by emotion. She knelt down on one knee again and bowed her head to Hera in respect. Still in awe of Hera's majesty, Athena felt that she could not bear much more of the emotion as she felt her queen's words resonate into her mind. She stayed silent for a moment while Hera and the other gods looked at her, feeling all of their intense gazes bearing down upon her.

"You are most righteous, majestic, and just, Queen Hera," Athena said. "I could never truly assume the mantle that you are placing upon me, even in your absence from our home." She paused and remained knelt in silence while the other gods looked on. She then stood up and stared Hera in the eyes. "But I will not fail you, my queen. I shall gladly assume the mantle of ruler of Olympus proper and patroness of justice in your absence."

Hera placed her right hand upon Athena's head and smiled. "Do you promise to hold dominion over your fellow Olympians in a manner that is both righteous and just, Athena?"

"Yes, Queen Hera."

"As patroness of justice, do you promise to deliver judgments in a manner that is at once swift, absolute, and merciful towards those who are deserving?" Hera asked.

"Yes, Queen Hera," Athena affirmed. Hera nodded and kissed Athena upon the forehead. The younger goddess again stood still and tried to hold together her composure the best she could, but was unable to hold back from shedding a few tears of awe, still unable to fully grasp that Hera was bestowing such important duties upon her.

Hera turned to the other gods who were standing in silence. "My brothers, my sisters, my children, and all of your attendants," she called out. "Show your allegiance and devotion to your new queen of Olympus."

"Hail, Queen Athena," the other gods and their nymphs spoke in unison. "Praise be with the new queen of Olympus." Athena smiled and tried to collect the tears pooling under her eyes. She still remained standing still, only relaxing when Hera placed her arm around her and nudged her into taking a bow. Hera then turned to her fellow gods, all of whom had looks on their faces of awe and respect but also looks of strain, holding back with great patience and fortitude their desire to revel and partake in the gayest of merriment that such an occasion deserved. Hera smiled and raised her hands to deliver one more decree.

"Now, my fellow Olympians, let us revel and be merry on this momentous occasion!"

"Yes, Queen Hera!" the other gods cheered in unison. With that the gods parted the circle they had made around Hera and returned to the festivities, ready again to be merry with their temporarily outgoing queen and the one who would rule in her place.

* * *

The festivities continued for many more hours upon Olympus. They each drank many goblets of wine presented by Dionysus, the youngest and most merry of the Olympians. Apollo and his nymphs filled the halls of Olympus with glorious medleys. Apollo himself and Pan teamed together to form a duet of entertainment, with the prophetic god strumming about on his lyre while the satyr god danced about and blew into his mouth harp to produce harmonious melodies that matched Apollo's strumming. His nymphs sang sweet hymns while the gods took their places on various chairs and couches scattered about the hall. Each relaxed graciously and engaged in discourse of various topics with one another as the celebration continued.

As the gods deliberated among various political matters and other issues, Hestia emerged from the double doors that connected Olympus's kitchen to its main dining hall. "Everyone," Hestia called out. "Everyone, please take your seats! The feast is about to begin!"

The other gods left their couches and took their places at Olympus's main dining table; a long oak structure that had images and symbols of each of the gods and their respective realms carved into the table while it was covered with an immaculate sheet of glass on top of it. Each god had their own seat custom made for them, each one carved in a manner that both fit their figure but also their personality and the dominions and aspects of life they presided over. Hera sat at the south end of the table, while at the north end, the seat normally reserved for Zeus sat empty.

The nymphs of Hestia, Demeter and Dionysus served the appetizers first, pouring out a red wine and serving up tzatziki and pita, as well as olives and zucchini. While the gods ate and chatted among themselves, more food began to come in the form of fasolada soup and salad. After that, the god were given main courses consisting of everything from cuttlefish and lobster to the meat of a large elk and an equally large boar that Artemis had taken specifically for the festival. As customary of the gods when they dined together, Hestia took the first pieces of the game, but only Hera determined if it was fitting to eat.

She cut a piece out of the stag and ate it for herself, chewing on it slowly and savoring the taste of the meat before swallowing it. "Artemis," she said. "You never fail to impress me with your game."

Artemis smiled and bowed her head in respect. "Of course, my queen. But I must thank my Aunt Hestia for preparing it so well."

"Yes yes, we should thank her," Hera said. She stood up and the other Olympians followed suit, raising their wine goblets as she raised hers, each one also directing their attention at Hestia. "To the oldest of the Olympian sisters, the passionate flame that has burned bright since we claimed this place as our own from our Titan ancestors, and one amazing cook if I may add. To Hestia!"

"To Hestia!" the other gods chimed. They each took a sip of their wine and sat down, taking pieces of meat from the stag and boar at the table while sipping from their wine and eating the bountiful vegetables that Demeter and Persephone had gathered for the gods to dine upon. They continued to engage in discourse, much of it about the mortal realms and about affairs the gods may have been having with other beings, but some of the discussion inevitably involved talk of Zeus and his whereabouts.

"I hear that this city of New York which Zeus lives in is called the 'Big Apple'," Hestia said.

"Mortals naming cities after fruit?" Demeter questioned. "What an absurdity."

"It's not so absurd in the land that Lord Zeus has been inhabiting, Aunt Demeter," Apollo stated. "In the United States they have cities named after wind, gems, passageways, machines, and creatures they call 'angels'."

"They are merely monikers, Apollo," Hermes said. He placed a piece of stag upon his pita and folded it to take a bite. "Believe me, I have been to all those cities. They are not truly named after the wind or gems. Though there is a city of angels in the state the mortals call California. It is a wondrous place." He took a bite and swallowed his food, then turned his attention to Hera. "Lord Zeus is traveling to each of those places this season, Queen Hera. You should try to visit them."

"Perhaps I shall," Hera stated. She continued to eat her food and drink her wine. "But what if this athletic competition that Zeus is partaking in among the mortals? What can you tell me of it?"

"Ah yes, the sport of baseball," Hermes said. "There is much for you to learn. But so much for me to explain in such a short period of time when you are due to enter the mortal world tomorrow. Why, I think this is the perfect moment to begin the surprise portion of this festival that we have hosted for our queen. Would you not agree, my fellow Olympians?"

The other Olympians looked at each other and nodded in agreement before reaching under the table. Hera looked around in confusion at what was happening. "What is going on, Hermes?"

"Do not be alarmed, my queen," Hermes said. He rummaged through his messenger bag. "We merely wish to present you with a series of gifts that we believe will aid you in the mortal world."

"Oh Hermes, I'm sure this is all so unnecessary," Hera said. She remained ever modest as queen, even when she was dressed in a manner and sat at the table of her Olympian brethren in a manner that made her full imposition of power over the Olympians well known. "I cannot possibly accept any gifts from all of you."

"Oh but all of these are quite necessary," Hermes said. "Or well, most of them are. Especially the ones which I have purchased you."

"If you insist, Hermes. Feel free to present your gifts."

Hermes got up from his seat and fluttered over to his mother with his winged sandals. He hovered directly in front her face and continued to rummage through his messenger bag while Hera looked on with curiosity. The other gods looked on with equal curiosity as to what Hermes had to give to Hera that he felt was so necessary. As he continued to rummage, some of the gods wondered if Hermes had forgotten his gifts. But before they became certain that Hermes was unable to find what he had brought for the queen he reached into his bag and produced a box and an envelope. He presented the envelope first, which Hera opened to reveal two slips of paper with bar codes and New York Yankees logos on them.

"What are these, Hermes?" Hera asked.

"These my queen are what the mortals call 'season tickets'," Hermes stated. "They will grant you access to every game the Yankees play at Yankee stadium. That way you can watch Zeus up close and in person as he performs his labors in the arena."

"Why thank you, Hermes." She was then handed a black box which she opened up to reveal another black box inside. The other gods looked on in even more curiosity then they did at the envelope. Hermes opened the box for Hera himself and revealed a small piece of obsidian metal with the picture of a helmeted solider and the words _American Express _ _Centurion_ upon it. She picked up the piece of metal in her hands, unsure of what it was.

"Before you ask, Queen Hera, that is what the mortals call a credit card. It is a substitute for currency and traded commodities that the mortals use in their exchanges of commerce. And that credit card is the best credit that one can possibly afford."

Hera and the other gods looked at the piece of metal with curiosity. Hephaestus, god of the forge and smithing and one of Zeus and Hera's few legitimate children, was particularly curious about the credit card and asked Hera if he could look at it himself. She handed him the card and watched him examine it with the curiosity that only a metallurgist such as himself could look at a piece of metal.

"This is nothing more then a piece of titanium," Hephaestus remarked. "Hermes, how is it that the mortals can use this for commerce without bartering anything?"

"That's an interesting question, Hephaestus," Hermes began. "You see.."

The other gods let out a plethora of groans and 'come ons' before Hermes could elaborate on the workings of credit and modern economics. Sensing that his speech was not welcome, Hermes fluttered back to his seat. Aphrodite nudged Hephaestus with her elbow and the two gods left the hall. The other Olympians and their looked on in confusion as the goddess of love and her blacksmith husband left the hall. Some muttered that Aphrodite must have wanted to get in one bout of sexual pleasure before the festivities continued, a thought that made Ares, the god of war and Aphrodite's former consort, shudder. He could never imagine the goddess of love having sex with his deformed, burly, bearded and burned brother.

Ares and the other gods only felt such thoughts for a short period of time, as Aphrodite and Hephaestus returned in but a few short minutes. In his arms Hephaestus pushed a large grey colored with golden lining and golden handles with engraved images of Olympus, peacocks, and cattle upon it. Hephaestus moved aside Hera's plates and set the chest upon the table, standing on the right said of it while Aphrodite placed her arms over it from the left.

"You made me a trunk, Hephaestus?" Hera said. She shook her head in disbelief at the beauty of the trunk, though deep down she felt it was unnecessary. She traced her hands over the golden images. "Oh son, it is beautiful."

"Hold the thanks, Mother," Hephaestus said. "Dite and I have much more to show you." Hephaestus flipped open each of the latches on the trunk. Hera and the other gods watched in awe as Hephaestus undid each latch. As each of the latches was unfastened, the trunk began to transform. From each section the sound of mechanical couplings and gears moving against each other resonated as the trunk began to reveal that it was more then just a chest, but a full amour. Hera looked on in awe as mirrors, drawers, and cabinets emerged from the confines of the trunk.

"You see, Dite went out and got you a pretty big wardrobe for your stay in the city of New York," Hephaestus explained. "So she had whip up this little transformable amour as a way to get all of your clothes, jewelry, and even this body paint what the mortals call 'makeup' back and forth to the mortal world in both safety and organized fashion." He tapped the amour sides. "It's made of a new material I've recently granted to the mortals for use called carbontanium. It's allowed me to make it both compact and light while also being spacious." He then pointed to one of the gears. "These gears were precision crafted from the very fires that forged.."

"Hephie, love," Aphrodite interrupted. She wrapped her arm around her husband and winked at Hera, knowing that the queen of Olympus cared little for talk of mechanical precision. "Why don't we show our queen what is inside the amour before we get into the details of its construction?"

"Oh yes," Hephaestus said sheepishly. "Do the honors, Dite."

Aphrodite opened the main closet section of the amour to reveal a large selection of female clothes. Most of them were feminine business attire, a variety of female shirts, blouses, suit jackets, and a variety of other clothes. She opened up one of the smaller closets to reveal a large selection of sandals, boots, and high heel shoes. Hera looked at all of the with great curiosity, scanning over them with her eyes before reaching in and taking out some of the outfit for herself. She looked at them and held them out in today's chest and legs.

"I chose only the most dignified of clothing for the most dignified of the Olympians," Aphrodite remarked. "But you know me, Hera. I just had to get you at least one sexy outfit." She smiled and reached in to reveal a purple sleeveless two piece bikini which she threw in Hera's hands. "Come on, try it on!"

"Oh I don't think my mother needs to try that on right now, love!" Hephaestus explained. The burly god of the forge took the bikini and shoved it back into the confines of amour before bending over to whisper into Hera's ear. "I'm sorry, but Hermes and I couldn't get her to not buy you one of these strips of cloth they call bikinis."

"It's forgiven, Hephaestus," Hera whispered back. She turned to Aphrodite and thanked the goddess of love and her husband.

Several of the other gods took their turns presenting Hera with gifts. Iris, Olympus's ambassador to humans, gave Hera a series of cards and papers to help aide in her disguise as a mortal. Hestia gave Hera the keys to what she said was her new residence in New York City, though she gave little indication to just what the home was like. Demeter and Persephone gave Hera many agrarian based gifts; Persephone gave her queen lavender and a series of organic perfumes for her wardrobe, while Demeter gave Hera some ornamental plants and a canister of pepper spray, which Demeter explained was a weapon humans used that would not kill. Apollo, Artemis, and Athena gave Hera a tablet computer similar to the one Hermes would use. Apollo explained that the computer could be used to gain any amount of knowledge that she needed. Dionysus gave Hera her own personal wine rack filled with the finest Greek wines. Poseidon gave Hera a necklace of pearls for her wardrobe which Hera thanked him profusely for.

The last god to present forth gifts was Hades. The lord of the dead walked up to his sister and told her to hold up her hand. Hera did as she was asked and presented her hand and Hades instructed her to close her eyes. She closed them and felt Hades slip something over her wrist. After the object was placed upon her, Hades instructed Hera to open her eyes.

Hera opened her eyes and gasped at the sight of what Hades had placed upon her wrist. What the lord of the dead had given to her was a gold bracelet made of a series of metal and gem beads strung across it. Each of the beads was shaped in the image of each of the god of Olympus's symbols; the trident of Poseidon, the cerebrus of Hades, the wings of Hermes, the sun and moon of Apollo and Artemis, and the owl of Athena. And the most beautiful of these beads was the one that was placed at the very top, a golden bead in the shape of a peacock feather with small diamonds and sapphires planted on the inside.

"Hades," Hera let out. "Hades I.."

"Consider it a gift from all of us," Hades stated. "Listen, I know from what happened a few weeks ago did not go so well. I know it seemed like we thought of you like a bitch and a wrathful monarch. But let this bracelet be a symbol of our trust in you, Hera. Every time you may feel doubt or uncertainty, let those jewels placed upon your wrist remind you that all of Olympus backs you and has faith in you as a righteous, just, and truly mighty queen of Olympus."

When Hades finished Hera began to shed tears, but not tears of sorrow. Instead the tears were of joy. She sobbed gently with a smile on her face as she lord of the dead reached in to pull his sister into an embrace. Eventually, after Hades let go of her, all the other gods took their turns embracing the queen of Olympus, each one taking time to let the queen grace them with the copious amount of joy she was experiencing. And as each god reached over to embrace Hera she cried harder and harder, knowing that she truly was blessed with the greatest family the universe had ever seen, and she knew that that gift was the greatest gift she could have ever received.


	7. Tampa

Chapter 7-Tampa

* * *

_One Week Earlier  
Tampa, Florida _

"And with a dash of cash, the Yankees signed Flash. AL East watch out, the old dog is out," WFAN 66.60 AM sports radio pundit Steve Summers rhymed. "He's been freed from the town of Beans and says he's a new man, a man with a plan. And this man with a plan that was signed with a dash of cash can only hope, oh hope he can, can't he? Can Flash Olympios bring the Yankees another Commissioner's Trophy?"

Zeus shook his head and shut off the radio in his G63. The mortal king of Olympus smirked as he thought about the rhyme scheme of the older radio pundit, findings a sort of odd glee in being talked about in such a poetic manner. He had always enjoyed media attention in the mortal world; he felt right at home answering questions and providing information for the press to eat out of his hand. Though he loved being interviewed by journalists and being asked baseball questions, he especially loved hearing the sports pundits such as Steve Summers talk about him. He enjoyed hearing their praise and even their criticism, the latter particularly proving to be useful fuel for when he felt the need to prove someone wrong about how good he was.

Zeus had been listening to WFAN 66.0 AM while driving north from Miami to Tampa, Florida. He was headed to spring training with the Yankees, packing up his things in his G63 just like he had in previous years with the Red Sox. But while in previous years Zeus had chosen to train by himself until the day before spring training games started, but this year was different. This year, with some heavy goading from Hermes and some coercive contract language, Zeus decided to head to spring training early, earlier then he had ever gone to spring training before. Not only was Zeus going before the rest of the Yankees showed up for training, he was going even a few days earlier then the rest of the pitchers and catchers were showing up. Zeus did not necessarily agree with the plan that Hermes had laid out for him, but he ultimately relented and placed his trust in the god of sports and athletes. His immortal son would surely know what to do best in this matter, he figured.

He pulled off the quiet Florida highway into Tampa proper, snaking his SUV through the quiet streets of early morning Tampa until he got to the spring training facility. The four building, two baseball field complex appeared desolate. Many of the lights were shut off aside from the parking lot lights. The parking lot itself was scarce except for a few vans and one silver Audi A6. Zeus pulled up in his own spot and glanced around the lot, raising an eyebrow when he saw the A6. Could someone else be here, he wondered. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped out of his SUV to grab his bags. It was probably just one of the Yankee coached, he figured.

He pulled his suitcase behind him, held a duffel bag over his shoulders, and carried a small backpack in his left hand. He fiddled with the keys that the Yankees had sent him and unlocked the door to the main facility and stepped inside, flipping a few of the light switches to turn the hallway lights on. He pulled his bags through the tiled hallways and walked around, following signs until he found his way to the main bunk in at the spring training facility. He found the door unlocked and the lights on, a fact which made him even more curious then when he saw the Audi in the parking lot. Even more surprising for Zeus was, after checking his phone, he found that the bunk bed he was sleeping in, was already adorned with opened bags and ruffled sheets that indicated someone was already there.

The doors on the other side of the bunk opened up and Zeus turned to see who would walk through them. He saw a young blonde man who looked like he was in his early twenties wearing a white Nike t shirt, gym shorts, and cross trainer sneakers. In his left hand was a bottle of Gatorade pressed against his mouth and a towel rested on his left shoulder. In his right hand was a spinning gyroscopic ball, a tool that pitchers used to strengthen their wrist muscles. The blonde chugged the Gatorade, let out a burp and saw Zeus. The king of the gods did not recognize him.

"Mornin'," the young man said. He spoke with a southern drawl and continued to spin the gyroscopic ball in his hand.

"Morning," Flash said. He picked up his bags and threw them up onto the top bunk, turning his back to the young man.

"Surprised to see you here so early," the young man said. He walked over to the top bunk while Zeus chucked his bags onto the top bunk. "I didn't think anyone was showin' up today."

"I figured I'd show up early." Zeus threw his backpack up on the bed and then turned to face the young man. He was still rolling his wrist to keep the gyroscopic ball spinning. Zeus stretched out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Flash Olympios."

"I know who ya are," the young man stated. He walked past Zeus and reached under the bunk bed to pull up a portable chin up bar. He picked the bar up and placed it on the edge of the bed frame. "I'm just surprised to see someone of your stature here so early at spring trainin', and roomin' in the rookie and second year bunks at that."

Zeus raised his eyebrow and rested his hand, turning to see the young blonde do some chin ups on the bar. "And who are you, blondie?"

The young man set himself down from the chin up bar and walked up to Zeus. His blue eyes met Zeus's own blue eyes, staring him down with an icy gaze that Zeus had not seen since he left Olympus. The young man gave Zeus a stern scowl, a scowl so filled with determination and drive that it made Zeus recall some of the many memories he had arguing with Hera. He saw the young man gnash his teeth and clench his fists. "Listen here, Flash Olympios," the blonde young man ordered. He reached up and pointed a finger right at Zeus's nose, making Zeus eyes go wide and a look of surprise stretch across his face. "You may be hot shit with your Cy Youngs, your big money, and all those ladies you take home, but ain't nobody goin' to call me anything but my name. My momma gave me my name and she raised me to be damn proud of it. And my name is Keegan, Keegan McDonough. You got that?"

Zeus stared down the young man with a furrowed brow. It had been some time that anyone had talked to him like that, and those who did talk to him in such a manner were gods and goddesses whom were several millenia older then this young man who was staring him down. Zeus kept his brow furrowed for a few seconds and then smirked, letting out a slight "heh" before he stepped away from the young man. "Fine, Keegan McDonough. Have it your way."

He climbed up onto the top bunk of the bunk bed and opened up his backpack to take out a tablet computer he had brought with him. He opened up and went immediately to check his own person twitter page, which he found had numerous notifications and requests by one of his millions of female followers to get his number, looking to see if any were worth giving his number to. While he did such Keegan began to do chin ups on the bar again. Zeus could hear his labored breathing as he checked his twitter page. As Keegan did his chin ups, Zeus smirked and rolled his eyes. He had only one thing to say about the young man doing chin ups on the bunk.

"Punky little gym rat," he whispered to himself.

"What'd you say?" Keegan asked. He did another chin up.

"Nothing," Zeus said. He turned away from Keegan and continued to check his twitter page, smirking and rolling his eyes as he heard Keegan's labored breathe and counting with each chin up the young man did.

* * *

_Present Time  
Tampa, Florida_

"Attention passengers," a voice called out over the 747's intercom. "This is your captain, Lou Smith, speaking to you from sunny Tampa Florida. It is 2:30 and we've just touched down on our flight from Athens, Greece. Outside right now its sunny a brisk seventy degrees here in the Sunshine State, and at this time we here at Virgin Airlines Flight 1934 will allow passengers to unfasten their seat belts and get their overhead baggage. Again, on behalf of Virgin Airlines, I'd like to thank all of you for being a wonderful group of passengers and would like to wish you a safe and fun stay in Tampa, Florida."

Hera sighed and cracked her eyes open from her seat. She let out a long yawn and opened up her eyes fully, stretching herself out and bending her neck both left and right for a moment before standing up. She yawned again and stretched her hands above her head, taking time to run one hand down her back and through her auburn hair. She looked around as she stretched her arms, noticing that everyone on the plane was getting up and grabbing their overhead bags. Shaking herself quickly, she reached down below her seat and pulled out a small black backpack that Hermes had given her up on Olympus among his other gifts. She slung the bag over her shoulder, brushed aside her hair from her peacock feather earrings, and began to walk out of the plane and into the gate. Once inside the gate, she was greeted by a nicely dressed Hermes, who again was wearing one of his new blazers, a plaid button down shirt, and his signature black and red Detroit Red Wings cap upon his head.

"Perfect timing on your part," Hermes remarked. Hera walked closer and Hermes looked up and down at what she was wearing. She was in one of her trademark red dress robes and wearing nothing but sandals upon her feet and a few bracelets on her wrists. He began to chuckle at her look.

"What are you laughing at, Hermes?" Hera asked.

"Mother," he chuckled. He shook his head and put a hand on his forehead. "Mother, what are you wearing?"

"What am I wearing?" Hera asked. She walked up to Hermes and picked up the hem of her dress robe. "I'm wearing what I wear almost every day on Olympus." She looked at the messenger god and his attire. "I should ask what you are wearing. You're supposed to be the patron of athletes, and that's not very athletic looking attire."

Hermes rolled his eyes and waved Hera forward. "Come on, we have to get that chest Hephaestus put together for you from the baggage carousel."

"Baggage carousel?" Hera said. "What is a baggage carousel?" She followed Hermes closely through the airport, looking around at all the people who were speaking on cell phones, stopping at coffee shops for coffee, or walking toward their flights. Many of the people wore unique white and blue stripped shirts adorned with an N intersected by a Y along with blue caps bearing the same logo. Other people had on similar shirts and caps, but they were different colors and had different logos.

"Didn't Apollo explain any of this to you when he took you to the airport today?" Hermes asked.

"No. He just took the trunk and gave it to one of the attendants at the desk for checking in. I went to protest, but he said it was fine," Hera explained. "Is this carousel of baggage where the mortals are keeping the trunk?"

"You bet." The two gods continued through the airport at a brisk pace until they reached the baggage carousel.

"Well I was more then capable of carrying it myself onto that airplane thing," Hera said. "My goodness that machine was the size of a small giant. And as loud as one to."

"That reminds me, how was your flight?" Hermes asked. He stood next to Hera as the baggage carousel began to start up. He looked around with his peripheral vision to make sure no one was staring at the queen of the gods.

"Fine, I suppose." Hera looked on as bags began to emerge from a portal in the center of the carousel and moved onto the revolving conveyor belt. "I don't understand why I had to fly on an airplane, Hermes. I could've just.."

"As queen of Olympus, Mother, you surely remember that while you can appear anywhere you want to in an instant, I cannot have you do that for the sake of conspicuousness. To judge Zeus, I actually needed you to move about the mortal world like I do so very frequently. And that meant adopting mortal transportation to move from one place to another," Hermes explained. He continued to watch the carousel and chuckle under his breathe at his stepmother's outfit.

"Of course," Hera said. She rolled her eyes and waited for the trunk to appear. When it did appear on the carousel, Hermes reached over and grabbed it, lifting it off the carousel with a large heave of his small arms.

"Damn!" Hermes exclaimed. He panted as he held up the chest in his arms. "I don't care what Hephaestus said. This trunk is not light at all." He grimaced and began to walk with the trunk toward the exit of the airport. Hera followed closely at his side. "How much did Aphrodite pack in this thing?"

"Enough for a long stay," Hera said. The two gods approached the door and the sun shined brightly in Hera's face. She squinted and put her hand over her eyes. The sun was high in the sky at this point in the day, and coming out of the dark airplane and the light but not obnoxiously bright airport made Hera blink her eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the sunlight. Hermes noticed her aversion to the light, set down her trunk, and handed her a small rectangular box. Hera opened it up to reveal a pair of black tinted aviator glasses.

"The mortals call those sunglasses," Hermes said. He reached into his pocket and took out his own pair of folded sunglasses. "You put them on your face, like this." He slipped the glasses onto his fest, their frame resting on his ears and the bridge of his nose. "The lenses keeps the sun out of your eyes."

Hera unfolded the glasses and put them on her face. The world appeared slightly darker through their tinted lenses, but all in all she felt far more comfortable wearing the glasses then she did not wearing them. She balanced them on the bridge of her nose and straightened the backpack hanging from her shoulders. Hermes picked up the trunk and walked with Hera across the street into the airport parking lot. After a short walk through the parking lot, a walk in which Hera looked curiously at all the different vehicles sitting in the lots, the two came up to Hermes car, a blue Lexus RX crossover SUV.

"You've never been in a car, have you?" Hermes asked. He opened up the trunk of the Lexus and shoved the trunk inside with a large heave, a heave which left him panting like a dog.

"Can't say I have," Hera remarked. She opened the door to the front seat with a pull of the door handle and climbed into the front seat. Hermes sat next to her on the driver's side and showed her how to buckle her seat belt. Hera thought the restraint was both pointless and uncomfortable, but Hermes said it was necessary for her to wear it according to mortal laws. Once she was fastened in, Hermes back the Lexus out and the two gods left the airport.

"You know, sometimes I don't get you at all," Hermes remarked. He drove out of the airport and onto Tampa's streets.

"What do you mean?" Hera asked.

"Aphrodite buys you all of the latest and most fitting fashion items that, if I may say, you would look very stylish in, and you choose to dress like you just got out of bed on Olympus," Hermes said. "Here I'm telling you this after I just explained to you about looking inconspicuous, and you aren't inconspicuous at all."

"You saw what she bought me, Hermes," Hera retorted. "I couldn't wear those two strips of cloth on the airplane! It would be incredibly undignified of me."

"Mother, she got you more then just the bikini," Hermes reminded Hera. "She got you some very stylish, very expensive clothing, and you should wear it at least to show your appreciation for her."

"Well I'll put some of it on later," Hera stated. "Right now I just want to wear what I always wear." She paused for a moment and then remembered something else she wanted to discuss with Hermes. "And if anyone is going to talk about blending in, what is the meaning of this?"

The queen of the gods reached into her backpack and pulled out a series of papers. Among the papers was an American driver's license, a passport, a birth certificate, a green card, and a series of images of Hera that she had no memory of ever giving her likeness to. Though the images clearly showed her face, they also showed her hair tied back in a manner that she had never seen before and without any of her earrings. "Why do I have to carry all of this around with me?"

Hermes glanced over briefly as he drove through Tampa. "You only need the little card that says 'drivers license' on it. Although I assume you won't be driving anywhere by yourself, seeing as you don't know how to drive."

"Well I could learn," Hera said. She glanced over at Hermes while he was driving the Lexus. "It doesn't look that hard."

"Let it be known that I don't want you driving anywhere on your own, Mother," Hermes stated. He made a right turn down a Tampa street. "But all you have to do is put the driver's license in your wallet and you'll be fine. That's all you need to do."

"Well what is the meaning of this alias that Iris gave me?" she asked.

"Let me see those papers," Hermes asked. Hera handed him the papers and he glanced at them while steering the Lexus with one hand. "Why, there's nothing wrong with this at all. I think Iris did a fine job creating you a mortal alias to live under, Mother."

"It says in those papers that I'm some kind of arbiter of separation the mortals call a 'divorce attorney'!" Hera exclaimed. "I'm the patroness of marriage! I hate the mere notion of divorce!"

"Well maybe that was a bit unnecessary," Hermes said. "But your name, birthplace, and mortal age seem about right."

"Let me see those papers again," Hera ordered. Hermes handed her back the papers and she looked at them again. "And my name, age, and birthplace, they're all wrong!"

"What do you mean they're wrong?" Hermes asked. "It's an alias, it's not supposed to be true to who you really are. You can't just walk around the mortal world saying.." Hermes took his hands off the wheel, held them up, and tried to do his best impression of his step mother. "Oh look at me, I'm Hera, queen of the Olympians, and I live on top of a mountain in Greece in a castle inhabited by immortal beings who work to oversee order in the world that we live in. You can't just wear that all on your sleeves!"

An oncoming car beeped its horn loudly and Hermes swerved out of the way quickly. The god of athletes sighed and shook his head as he collected himself and drove down the road. He looked over at the queen of the gods and saw she was wide eyed but relatively unfazed, which made him feel comforted. "Alright," he began. He panted a few times and continued to drive slowly. "I need to drive you to the spring training facility before we go back to the hotel later. I figured you'd want to see what Zeus is up to. We can talk about your alias issues later, okay?"

Hera nodded her head and turned her head to look out the window of the Lexus. "I think I'd like that. Take us there, Hermes." Hermes turned the car in the direction toward the Yankees spring training facility. He felt nervousness begin to brew in his chest and throat. He was not certain what would happen at the spring training facility.

* * *

A loud thwack of a baseball hitting a leather emanated through the air of the Yankees practice field. It repeated over and over again, ringing out in varied intervals as different pitchers took their place on the practice field mound. One pitcher would take their chance up with with the Yankees bullpen catcher, each throwing twenty pitches while they were watched by manager David Robertson, coaches from all levels of the Yankees organization, and by front office brass. The other players performed stretches and other exercises in the outfield and infield of the practice diamond. Each of them wore their blue and white spring training jerseys as well as their diamond mesh practice caps and cleats. Zeus moved among these players, taking his place among some of the relief pitchers while the other starters took their turns.

As Zeus swerved his way through a row of cones at a sprint pace and did his stretches, he could not help but look over at the mound of the practice field. Up on the mound was Keegan, throwing his first simulated pitching sessions off of the mound. He listened closely to the thwack of the baseball leaving Keegan's hand and hitting the bullpen catcher's glove. He also paid close attention to Keegan's delivery. He scanned Keegan's delivery with attentive eyes, watching as the young pitcher made pitch after pitch with what seemed like relative ease. Curious, Zeus left the cone drill and walked over to the mound with his glove in hand, taking his place next to the grizzled Yankees pitching coach, Terrance "Terry" Shaw.

"How's it going, Flash?" the old pitching coach asked. He reached out for Zeus's hand and Zeus shook it, patting him on the back in a light embrace. "Enjoying the facility so far?"

"More then Boston," Zeus remarked. The two men laughed lightly before looking back at Keegan. "Who is this kid anyway?"

"You're looking at the crown jewel of the New York Yankees farm system, Flash," Terry remarked. Zeus watched as Keegan wound himself up and threw a fastball into the catcher, furrowing his brow at the "thwack" sound made when the baseball hit the bullpen catcher's glove. "Keegan McDonough from Batesville, Arkansas. I thought you two already met?"

"We did," Zeus said. He looked on closely as Keegan threw another ball. "Dave bunked us together."

"Dave and I think you could give the young buck a hand," Terry stated. "This kid has almost everything. He's got power, four plus pitches, silky smooth mechanics like yours, and even has remarkably good control from what I saw briefly last year.."

"But he's missing something?"

"He is missing something." Keegan threw one more pitch and then stepped off the mound. Zeus could see the young pitcher shaking his head as he walked away from the mound, as if he was disappointed. "Good stuff out there, Keegan." Keegan didn't pay attention to the old coach and walked away shaking his head. Zeus watched with one eyebrow raised. He had never seen someone act that way during a bullpen session before. He began to think about what Terry thought might have been missing from Keegan.

Terry patted him on the back. "Hey, why don't you go show these youngsters how to throw a bullpen?"

"Sure. Why not?" Zeus remarked. He slipped on his glove and trotted toward the mound, taking his place on the raised area at the center of the diamond. He twisted his body slightly in both directions, trying to finish loosening up before he began to throw the ball. He scoffed at the mound with his cleats, feeling for a comfortable spot on the rubber before catching the ball thrown to him by the bullpen catcher. He felt the tightly wound ball in his hands closely. The seams and surface seemed good enough for him to throw with. Finally, licked his right hand fingers and then placed the baseball in his glove, holding it up to his face while the catcher got into position and made hand signals.

"Give me a nice heater, Flash," Terry ordered. Zeus nodded and stared down the bullpen catcher that was squatting down behind home plate.

He focused in on the center of the catcher's glove, right in the webbing where the ball would end up if he threw properly. Nodding to the catcher, he raised his shoulders and began to reach back with his arm, holding the baseball over his head in the glove as he would his upper body up and raised his right leg. As he raised his leg, he pulled his right arm back and stretched his glove hand outward, maintaining his shoulders perfectly level as he continued his motion. Planting his right leg down firmly on the ground and pointed his toes right at home plate, assuring he was perfectly on point in his motion. Holding his fingers over the seams of the fastball, he brought his right arm forward with great force as he pressed forward with his legs and hips. As his hand passed by his ear, Zeus released the ball brought his left leg forward to complete the delivery. He watched the ball zip through the air and make a loud thwack sound, similar to the one that Keegan had made, as it landed right in the catcher's glove.

Zeus looked at the bullpen catcher and then over at Terry. The older pitching coach, as well as some of the other Yankee coaches and scouts, were all nodding their heads. Some of the scouts were taking notes on pieces of paper. Terry asked Zeus to throw a few more four seam and two seam fastballs, and watched closely as Zeus performed each pitch with the relative ease that he was so accustomed to seeing from the other side of the diamond when his Yankee teams would face off against Zeus when he was with the Red Sox.

He threw five fastballs in total before Terry asked him to change things. "Show me the arc light, Flash," Terry ordered. "I want the young bucks here to see how a master throws a slider."

Zeus nodded and got back to do his motion again. He wound up his upper body and reached back, following through the same way he had when he had thrown the fastball. But instead of holding the ball on center and across all the seams or only part of the seams, he held it slightly off center and let the ball roll off from his index finger first as he snapped his wrist. The ball began to spin through the air and hooked violently as it entered the catcher's glove. Like the fastball, the slider made an equally loud thwack sound when it hit the glove. Zeus threw five of these sliders, noticing the scouts and front office personnel nod their heads while Terry smirked with glee.

"And now how about that ball lightning?" Terry requested. "Lets see if that splitter still has any life on it."

Zeus fiddled with the baseball in his glove, placing his index finger and middle finger on the seams of the baseball, each one overlapping one seam while he spread them wide and grasped them tightly in his fingers. He reached back into his windup and propelled his body forward, making emphasis to really drive forward with his legs while his arm drove forward and he snapped his wrist. The split finger fastball spun tightly through the air and shot downward sharply as the bullpen catcher caught it right in his hands. Like the fastballs, Zeus threw five total splitters. The scouts continued to write on their notepads and the king of the gods stepped up to the mound. Terry waved him over and Zeus took his place at the pitching coach's side.

"Man," Terry said. He smiled and put arm around Flash. "You sure are competitive, man. You were throwing like it was game seven of the World Series!"

Zeus raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Terry waved one of the scouts with a radar gun over. The scout came over and handed Zeus a piece of notebook paper. On it were the velocities of the pitches that Zeus threw. Zeus looked at it closely and his eyes grew wide.

"97, 96, 97, 90, 89, 90, 94," Zeus read out loud. He smiled and chuckled lightly. "Well I mean, I've always been more Randy Johnson then Greg Maddux, Terry."

"Man, save that arm of yours for the regular season," Terry said with a smile. "We'll need it more there then we will here in spring training. But keep up the good work."

Terry and the other scouts left Zeus standing with the little piece of paper scribbled with full of numbers on it. The king of the gods looked at the numbers and was curious. The radar gun must be busted, he thought. He remembered what Hermes had told him, that he could no longer throw as hard as the numbers claimed he just did. Unsure of what he had just done or how he did it, he threw the piece of paper in a nearby trash can and went back to join the other Yankees players for some cool down workouts. Zeus had no idea that someone very familiar with him was present at the spring training facility, watching him very closely throughout his whole bullpen session.


End file.
